


Family

by emthejedichic



Series: The Will of the Force [3]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: Jedi Apprentice Series - Jude Watson & Dave Wolverton
Genre: Alternate Universe, Established Relationship, F/M, Imperial Era, Xanatos is alive
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-31
Updated: 2018-09-16
Packaged: 2019-04-16 04:41:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 29,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14156982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emthejedichic/pseuds/emthejedichic
Summary: In the time of the Empire, everything changes. Siri, Xanatos, and Granta must learn to become a family in order to survive.





	1. Runs In The Family

**Author's Note:**

> This is the sequel to The Will of the Force and Grandmaster. If you haven’t read those, this fic won’t make much sense.
> 
> I’m posting chapters 1 and 2 at the same time, since chapter 1 is so short. The entire fic is written and I plan to update every Friday.

_Mary have mercy now look what I’ve done but don’t blame ‘cause I can’t help where I come from_

_Running is something that we’ve always done well and mostly I can’t even tell what I’m running from_

_Run from their pity, from responsibility_

_Run from the country and run from the city_

_I can run from the law, I can run from myself_

_I can run from my life, I can run into debt_

_I can run from it all, I can run till I’m gone_

_I can run for the office and run for my cause_

_I can run using every last ounce of energy_

_I cannot, I cannot, I cannot run from my family_

_-Amanda Palmer_

* * *

(Granta)

 

Life these days reminds me of an old saying: _the more things change, the more things stay the same._ A year ago, the Republic was reorganized into an Empire. But despite the drastic shift in government, not much in my life has changed.

 

It’s different for Siri and my father. Siri took the fall of the Republic hard, and the extermination of the Jedi even harder. My father, I think, feels somewhat smug about having outlived the Jedi Order. If he does feel that way, he’s smart enough to keep it from Siri.

 

They were worried, initially, that the Empire might come for them, but a year later that still hasn’t happened. I suppose Darth Vader is too busy tracking down fugitive Jedi to worry about Siri and my father. It’s not like they’re much of a threat.

 

Right now, I’m in my office on Prynnash V’s moon. A few years ago, some valuable minerals were found to be abundant here, and my father placed me in charge of overseeing the large operation of mining them. It’s a rather barren moon; it barely even has an atmosphere. Our base is situated underneath a large dome filled with oxygen.

 

A ping distracts me from my work. It’s a notification that Hana, one of my project managers, is here to see me. I key the door open, and she walks inside.

 

“How are you today, Granta?” she asks. Unlike my father, I don’t stand on ceremony with my employees. He prefers to be called _sir,_ but I have no problem with everyone using my name.

 

“I’m fine,” I reply.

 

Hana has always gone out of her way to be nice to me, for reasons I don’t quite understand. It could just be that she wants to keep a good relationship with her boss, except for the fact that she used to work for Siri, and had been just as nice to me then. My father had reassigned her to work under me fairly soon after she’d been hired, for reasons he hadn’t bothered to explain to me.

 

I know better than to question her kindness. Hana is the closest thing I have to a friend at work. There’s still Siri, of course, but since I began working on the moon we don’t see each other as often as we used to. I’ve taken to avoiding my father as much as possible outside work, which means I don’t see much of Siri either.

 

Hana is also beautiful, which is something I try my best not to notice. She has a solid frame, rather than being skinny and waif-like. Her skin is a warm brown tone, and she has short-cropped black hair with green eyes.

 

“I was looking through the budget reports and everything seems to be in order,” Hana says. “We just need your father to sign off on them.”

 

“Did you send them to him for approval?”

 

“I tried, but it wouldn’t go through for some reason.”

 

“Send them to me, then, and I’ll try it,” I tell her.

 

“Okay, thanks,” she says.

 

“Is there anything else?”

 

“No, I don’t think so. I’ll see you on the shuttle this evening?”

 

Because Prynnash V’s moon is so close to the planet itself, we don’t house any of the staff here. Instead, they’re transported to and from the moon by ship.

 

“Sure,” I say uncomfortably. I always feel somewhat awkward around Hana, but she never seems to mind.

 

“I’ll save you a seat,” she says, smiling.

 

Once she’s gone, I access the files she’s sent me and attempt to forward them to my father. But as Hana had said, the message won’t go through. So instead I send it to our office on Malastare, where my father is currently on a business trip, with instructions to forward it to him.

 

A few minutes later, I get a message from the Malastare office, expressing confusion. They’re saying my father isn’t there. I frown. That was definitely where he said he was going, wasn’t it? Just to be sure, I send him a message: _You are on Malastare, aren’t you?_

 

This at least goes through, and I receive a reply in moments: _Yes, and I’m very busy._

 

My frown deepens. Someone is lying to me, and somehow I don’t think it’s the staff at the Malastare office. They’d have no motive. My father, on the other hand, has been acting strangely for the past six months or so. He’s been going on a lot more business trips. This isn’t unusual in itself, except for the fact that he’d usually take Siri or me along, and he hasn’t been. Now he’s not where he says he is.

 

Abandoning my work, I begin to look into his other trips. I comm every office and speak to someone personally. My suspicions are confirmed- he hasn’t been to any of these places in at least six months. The only information I can’t find is where he’s actually been going.

 

This research takes up the rest of the day, and I have to hurry to meet the shuttle back down to Prynnash. Not that they’d dare leave without me, but I don’t want to hold them up if it can be avoided.

 

True to her word, Hana’s saved me a seat in the executive cabin.

 

“You look worried about something,” she observes when I sit down.

 

“It’s nothing,” I lie. In truth I’m concerned, but I don’t want Hana knowing about this. It’s not really any of her business, and anyway, it wouldn’t be professional to tell her.

 

When we return to Prynnash, Hana and I go our separate ways. Immediately, I head for Siri’s office.

 

“Hey, Granta,” she greets me. “I was just finishing up for the day, do you want to have dinner together?”

 

“That would be nice,” I tell her.

 

We go back to my apartment, which is closer, and over dinner, I tell Siri what I’ve discovered. Her reaction isn’t what I thought it would be.

 

“So he’s been lying to us? And you have no idea where he’s really been going?”

 

“That’s about the size of it,” I say.

 

She shuts her eyes for a long moment.

 

“Are you alright?” I ask hesitantly.

 

“No,” she says. “Xan’s been shutting me out lately. He hasn’t let me in his head in months. I didn’t know why, but this must be the reason. If he’s keeping something secret, of course he wouldn’t want me in there.”

 

I clear my throat awkwardly. Talk of the Force always makes me uncomfortable. Siri’s explained to me that she and my father can share each other’s thoughts, or something like that. Apparently it’s not something they ever did until they got married. I don’t pretend to understand it.

 

“Do you think we should confront him, when he gets back?” I ask.

 

Siri nods. “I think we’ll have to,” she says.“And we shouldn’t think the worst. It could be that he has a good reason for keeping whatever it is a secret.”

 

I doubt this, but I don’t say so. Siri’s ability to see the best in my father always amazes me. Then again, she sees a completely different side of him than I do.

 

I used to think that my father was incapable of love, and none of the women he was involved with before Siri caused me to reevaluate my theory. But there’s no denying that he loves her. So he is capable of love. He’s just not capable of loving me.


	2. Flesh And Bone

_Somewhere outside that finish line_

_I square up and break through the chain_

_And I hit like a raging bull_

_Anointed by the blood I take the reins_

_Cut from the cloth of a flag that bears the name “Battle Born”_

_They’ll call me a contender_

_They’ll listen for the bell_

_With my face flashing crimson from the fires of hell_

_-The Killers_

* * *

(Xanatos)

 

When I leave Prynnash, I go immediately to rendezvous with the Star Destroyer _Exactor,_ Darth Vader’s flagship. I park my ship in one of the landing bays, where I’m met by an officer.

 

“Right this way, please,” he says.

 

I follow him through the ship’s corridors, pleased to note that the crew gives me a wide berth. On my first few trips to the _Exactor_ , I’d gotten the distinct impression that its crew was looking down on me. But by now they know my business is with Vader, so I’m avoided when possible and treated with respect by those who must deal with me.

 

The officer leaves me in Vader’s quarters, telling me he’ll be with me shortly. The room seems empty, but I don’t relax. I’ve been able to sense Vader’s presence ever since I boarded the ship, and I know very well where he is. The cold sensation of the dark side is overpowering and unmistakable. Dooku had hidden his darkness, but Vader does no such thing.

 

The large hyperbaric chamber in the room begins to open with a hydraulic hiss, and Darth Vader steps out.

 

We stare at each other for a moment. I try, valiantly, to make it seem like I’m not afraid of Vader, but the truth is that he terrifies me. Of course, I’m not going to admit this to anyone.

 

“Xanatos,” Vader says finally. “I have a task for you. I have received intelligence that there is a Jedi hiding on Talas. You will go there and kill him.”

 

“Happy to be of service,” I say sarcastically. Vader and I both know, after all, that I’m not doing this of my own free will. “Does this Jedi have a name?”

 

“Nil Ge,” the Sith replies. “He is a Quarren. Bring me his lightsaber when you are done.”

 

“I’m familiar with the procedure,” I say. It’s always the same, after all: find the Jedi, kill them, then bring Vader their lightsaber to prove they’ve been eliminated. “Is there anything else I should know?”

 

“You know what will happen if you should fail me,” Vader warns.

 

“You’ve made that quite clear,” I reply.

* * *

When I arrive on Talas, I find that my task is harder than I’d thought. The whole bloody planet has been settled by Quarren, making my job considerably more difficult. It doesn’t even make sense; Talas is a volcanic world, not an aquatic one.

 

When looking around doesn’t do me any good, I return to the ship to meditate. I’d never been very good at this when I was a Jedi, but for these assignments it’s proved useful to immerse myself in the currents of the Force.

 

I reach out, feeling the Force around me. I can sense the life-force of the many beings on this planet. In time, one of them becomes distinct, and I know I’ve found my target. He’s trying to hide himself in the Force, but I’m fairly sure I’ve identified a Jedi.

 

I track him to a settlement in the planet’s western hemisphere. He’s alone when I find him, so at least there won’t be any collateral damage.

 

He must get a warning from the Force, because he no sooner looks at me than turns and runs. I smirk. So much for Jedi courage.

 

Nil Ge leads me on a merry chase through the volcanic wasteland. Finally, he loses his balance and falls down a rocky incline into a canyon. I leap down after him, using the Force to cushion my landing. Quickly, I position myself between him and the opening of the canyon.

 

“Nowhere to run,” I say. “Now, we can do this the easy way, or the hard way.”

 

Nil Ge says nothing, just ignites his lightsaber.

 

I sigh. “Fine, have it your way.”

 

Our battle is brief but intense. Finally, I manage to disarm him. He backs away, looking at me warily.

 

“Did Vader send you?” he asks.

 

“Unfortunately for you,” I reply.

 

“How did he find me?”

 

“I neither know nor care,” I tell him. Then I raise my lightsaber.

 

Nil Ge flinches, but it’s too late. The deed is done.

 

I collect his lightsaber, leaving the body where it lies. The sooner I get back to Vader, the sooner I can go home.

 

I don’t hate the idea of killing Jedi, but in practice it’s more difficult than I’d thought it would be. Most of the difficulty comes from the knowledge that Siri would never forgive me if she knew what I’ve been up to these past six months. And the more I continue, the greater the chance is that she’s going to find out.

 

I return to the _Exactor_ , handing Vader Nil Ge’s lightsaber. The Sith actually compliments me, which is a first.

 

“You are nothing if not reliable, Xanatos,” he says.

 

Anger flares within me. “I wouldn’t be doing this if you hadn’t forced me into it.”

 

“Still, it seems you’re a natural,” Vader tells me.

 

“I don’t want to be a natural!” I retort. “I just want to be left alone.”

 

“I cannot allow that,” he replies. “Besides, I would have thought you would enjoy killing Jedi.”

 

I would have, once. “Not anymore,” I say.

 

“Because of your wife?” Vader asks.

 

I don’t respond to this.

 

“Love is weakness, Xanatos,” the Sith tells me. “If the Jedi were right about one thing, it was that.”

* * *

When I return to Prynnash, Siri and Granta are waiting for me on the landing platform. I greet Siri with a kiss and Granta with a nod.

 

“Have things been running smoothly here?” I ask.

 

“Everything’s been fine,” Siri says. “How was Malastare?”

 

“Uneventful,” I reply.

 

Siri and Granta exchange a look. This gives me a feeling of unease.

 

“I think we need to talk,” Siri says.

 

We retire to the house. I’d had it built after Siri and I were married. I’d wanted a small palace, but Siri had put her foot down, so we ended up with a mansion instead. She says it’s far too much space for just the two of us, but I don’t see why we shouldn’t have some luxury.

 

“So, what did you want to talk about?” I ask once the three of us are ensconced in the sitting room.

 

“I commed the Malastare office,” Granta says. “They said you weren’t there.”

 

I try not to wince. That would explain the message I’d gotten from Granta while I was in hyperspace.

 

“They said that?” I ask, feigning shock.

 

“Xan, don’t,” Siri says. “We know you’ve been lying to us for months.”

 

I close my eyes briefly. So that’s it, then. My luck has finally run out.

 

“What have you been doing?” Siri asks.

 

“I would really rather not tell you,” I say honestly.

 

“Are you having an affair?” Granta asks.

 

I glare at him. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

 

“What is it, then?”

 

I sigh. This is not going to go over well at all. “Six months ago, Vader contacted me. He said that if I didn’t do his dirty work, he’d kill you and Granta.”

 

“What kind of dirty work?” Siri presses.

 

“He has me killing Jedi,” I admit.

 

Siri’s reaction to this isn’t what I thought it would be. I’d thought she’d be angry, or upset. Instead, she barely reacts at all, except for the cold shock I feel radiating off of her.

 

“That’s bad, right?” Granta says.

 

“Yes!” Siri says.

 

“Well, depending on your point of view-“ I begin, but Siri whirls on me with a furious look, and I stop myself.

 

“How can you be doing this?” she demands.

 

“Vader didn’t exactly give me a choice,” I say. “I know how this must make you feel, but I did it for you. To protect you.”

 

Siri takes a deep breath. “Well,” she says. “As long as we’re making confessions… I have one of my own. I wasn’t going to say anything yet, but I think it’s just become relevant.”

 

Then she looks straight at me. “I’m pregnant,” she says.

 

Now it’s my turn to be in shock.

 

“You’re _pregnant_?” Granta demands.

 

Siri nods.

 

“But- don’t the two of you use birth control?”

 

“Of course we do,” I snap.

 

“I don’t know how it happened,” Siri says. “It shouldn’t be possible.”

 

“Are you sure?” I ask.

 

She nods. “I can sense it. And I had a blood test to confirm.”

 

“This is unbelievable,” Granta says. He actually seems to be taking this news worse than I am. “I can’t- I can’t deal with this.”

 

“Granta?” Siri asks, but he’s already storming from the room.

 

“What’s his problem?” I wonder. He’s not the one who just had a bombshell dropped on him, after all.

 

Siri gives me an unimpressed look. “I imagine it’s going to take some time for him to come to terms with this.”

 

“I still don’t see why he should be so upset.”

 

She shakes her head. “I’ll explain it to you later.”

 

“Quite right,” I say. “We have to decide what we’re going to do about this situation.”

 

“What do you mean?” she asks warily.

 

“Well, do you want to keep it?”

 

“How can you even ask me that?” she asks furiously.

 

“If we have a baby, it will just be one more thing for Vader to leverage against me,” I point out.

 

“What if he couldn’t find us?” Siri asks. “We could go into hiding.”

 

“What about the company?”

 

“Well, you’d have to make a choice,” she says.

 

I shake my head. “It isn’t that simple.”

 

“Xan, if Vader’s after us-“

 

“But he isn’t. Not as long as I do as he says.”

 

“Not as long as you keep killing Jedi, you mean.”

 

“I know this upsets you-“

 

“It more than upsets me!” she exclaims.

 

“Well, it’s like I said. Vader didn’t give me a choice.”

 

She shakes her head. “I think we both need to sleep on this. It’s late. I’m going to bed.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and/or kudos are much appreciated.


	3. Green Eyes

_I came here with a load_

_And it feels so much lighter_

_Now I met you_

_And honey you should know_

_That I could never go on without you_

_Green eyes_

_-Coldplay_

* * *

(Granta)

 

When I reach Hana’s apartment, I stare at the keypad for a long moment. It seems to complex for me to figure out, so I bang on the door instead.

 

“Hana!” I call. “Let me in.”

 

Finally, she answers the door. “Granta? What are you doing here? It’s the middle of the night.”

 

“I didn’t know where else to go,” I confess.

 

She gives me a long look. “Are you drunk?”

 

I am, rather spectacularly in fact. “What does that have to do with it?”

 

Hana sighs. “I guess you’d better come in.”

 

I stumble inside.

 

“So, what’s wrong?” she asks me as I collapse on her couch.

 

I’m quiet for a moment. Saying it out loud will make it real. But I’m going to have to deal with this at some point. “Siri’s pregnant.”

 

Hana frowns. “How is that your problem?” she asks, sitting next to me.

 

“You don’t understand. My father is not cut out to raise a child,” I say emphatically. “I don’t want him to mess up again.”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

I sigh. “I was eleven years old when my mother died. Do you know what my father did? He sent me off to boarding school. No kind words, not even an attempt to comfort me. He just said that he was far too busy to raise me himself, and sent me packing.”

 

“But- I mean, that won’t happen again.”

 

“You don’t know that!” I cry.

 

“Yes, I do,” she says. “Because this child won’t be in those same circumstances. It will have Siri, and you to look out for it.”

 

“Yeah, but what if-“ I swallow. “What if this baby is Force-sensitive?”

 

Hana shrugs. “So what if it is?”

 

“Don’t you understand? If it is, then my father won’t need me anymore.”

 

“Granta, that’s ridiculous. Your father cares about you.”

 

“How do you know?” I challenge. “You don’t know anything about it. He hates me.”

 

“He doesn’t hate you. I know he doesn’t.”

 

“I’ve never been good enough,” I go on. “Not once, no matter what I do- because I don’t have the Force. That’s my biggest failing, and it’s not even something I can control.”

 

“Xanatos wouldn’t hold that against you.”

 

“Oh no?” I ask, mocking.

 

Hana sighs. “Look, Granta, it’s late. I need to go to bed. We can talk about this in the morning, if you really want.”

 

I really don’t want to be alone right now. “I thought we were friends,” I say, hurt.

 

“I am your friend,” she says patiently. “Would I have let you in here in the middle of the night, otherwise?”

 

“I guess not,” I mutter, chastised.

 

Hana sets me up on the couch, bringing me a spare pillow and blanket. “Just sleep, Granta,” she tells me. “Everything will look better in the morning.”

 

I somehow doubt that. Anyway, there’s no way I’ll be able to sleep with everything running through my head. Still, I settle down, allowing Hana to go to bed. I fully expect to lie awake all night.

* * *

I open my eyes the next morning with no memory of having fallen asleep. If I dreamed, I don’t remember it. I sit up- and immediately groan as my head begins to pound. The room seems to be spinning around me.

 

“Here,” Hana says, handing me a glass of water. “Drink this.”

 

I take a tentative sip, then gulp down half the glass. It tastes delicious, for all that it’s just water.

 

“Painkillers,” Hana says, handing me two small pills.

 

I take them gratefully.

 

“Do you want breakfast?”

 

I consider this, and a wave of nausea hits me. “Not really,” I reply.

 

She nods. “Not surprising, but you'll feel better if you eat something. I’ll make you some toast.”

 

Hana’s apartment is smaller than mine; the kitchenette is adjacent to the living area, without a wall to separate them.

 

“What time is it?” I ask.

 

“Tenth hour,” she replies.

 

With a jolt, I realize that I should have been on the shuttle to Prynnash’s moon two hours ago. “What about work?” I ask.

 

“I called in sick for both of us,” she replies. “You’re in no state to go in.”

 

“You could have, though,” I point out.

 

“I thought you needed a friend,” she says.

 

I digest this silently. I vaguely recall our conversation of the night before. I remember telling her about Siri’s pregnancy, anyway. And hadn’t Hana said she was my friend?

 

Embarrassment sweeps through me. Last night, coming to see Hana had sounded like a great idea. But now that I’ve sobered up, I realize how unprofessional it was. I’m her boss, after all. She wouldn’t have been likely to turn me away even if she’d wanted to.

 

“I shouldn’t have come here,” I say. “It wasn’t appropriate.”

 

“It’s okay,” she assures me. “I’m glad you felt comfortable enough to come to me.”

 

I blink. This doesn’t quite make sense, but my head is pounding too much to try and work it out.

 

Hana brings me some toast spread with a thin layer of butter. I take a few tentative bites, and my nausea doesn’t increase.

 

“What did I say last night?” I ask her as I eat.

 

“You were concerned about the baby,” Hana says. “You said that your father had made mistakes raising you, and you didn’t want to see those mistakes repeated.”

 

I frown. I think I remember that, but I’m also sure that there was more. “Is that all?”

 

“You were also worried that the baby might have the Force.”

 

_Now_ I remember. Shame burns through me. Apparently all I have to do is get drunk, and I start spilling my deepest fears.

 

It hadn’t even occurred to me that Siri’s baby might be Force-sensitive until I’d already started drinking. Once I’d had the thought, I’d decided to get completely smashed in hopes of driving it out of my head. Clearly that hadn’t worked.

 

“I’m sorry,” I tell Hana. “You shouldn’t have had to deal with all that.”

 

“It’s okay, Granta,” she says again. “I actually like to see a man who’s in touch with his emotions. So many of them aren’t.”

 

I blink. That’s certainly not the reaction I’d expected. In fact, if I didn’t know better, I’d say Hana was flirting with me. But that can’t be it. Why would she flirt with me after I’d made such a fool of myself last night? I’m sure she’s just being kind.

 

It’s always hard for me to tell when women are interested in me. The boarding school my father had sent me to when I was eleven was boys only, so I didn’t have much experience with women during my formative years. Once I’d graduated, I’d immediately started working for Offworld, where all the women worked for either me or my father. Of course, we’d had slaves then, but my father had made it quite clear that no one was to take advantage of them in that way. It still happened, of course, but I had never sunk that low.

 

I didn’t want a woman to feel obligated to be with me, anyway. I wanted someone who would choose me. But that hadn’t ever happened. My only experience with women was with escorts I had hired, when I thought I could get away with it without my father finding out. Maybe that wasn’t much better than taking advantage of slaves, but at least I’d made sure that these escorts were free women. Some of them were even good at acting as though it was me they wanted, rather than my money.

 

“I should go,” I tell Hana awkwardly. “I don’t want to take up any more of your time.”

 

“Are you sure?” she asks. “I don’t mind, really.”

 

“I’m sure,” I say. “I need to be alone.”

* * *

Despite my words to Hana, I don’t go home when I leave her apartment. Instead, I go to my father’s office. The painkillers have kicked in by then, and my hangover has mostly abated, though the sunlight sends stabbing pain into my eyes.

 

“Granta,” my father greets me when I arrive. “Shouldn’t you be working?”

 

“I took the day off,” I say. I’m aware that he won’t approve of this, but I really don’t care. I’m entitled to sick days, after all.

 

“What are you doing here, then?” my father asks.

 

“We need to talk,” I say.

 

“About what?”

 

“About the baby.”

 

“It’s a little early to begin calling it that, don’t you think? It’s only a bundle of cells right now.”

 

“But it’s going to be a baby.”

 

“I suppose you’re right,” he allows. “What do you have to say about it?”

 

_It’s not your place to say anything_ , is the implication here. But I refuse to let my father bully me into silence. This is too important.

 

“I don’t want you to make the same mistakes with this baby that you made with me.”

 

He frowns. “I don’t know what you mean.”

 

Anger wells up inside me. How can he not know? “You were a terrible father,” I say, bluntly.

 

My father actually has the nerve to look surprised. “What are you talking about, Granta?”

 

“You let my mother do everything when I was young. You barely even visited. Then, when she died, you shipped me off to school. You were never there for me, not once.”

 

“I provided for you, and for your mother,” he replies. “Once she died, I saw to it that you had the best education. I shudder to think what they were teaching you on that impoverished moon she insisted on raising you on.”

 

“You provided _money_ ,” I say. “But it takes more than that to raise a child. How do you think I felt, leaving everything I’d ever known and getting sent off to live among strangers?”

 

“You were living with children your own age, and receiving a quality education at the same time,” my father responds.

 

“But I had no emotional support network!” I cry. “Father, you always said you hated the Jedi in part because they took you away from your family, but you did exactly the same thing to me.”

 

This, at least, seems to get through to him. “Don’t compare me to the Jedi,” he says coldly. “I did the best I could with you, but I had a company to run, and no time to raise a child.”

 

“Will it be the same with this child, then?” I challenge.

 

“Siri and I haven't decided what we're going to do, yet,” my father says.

 

“Just try to do better this time, Father,” I say. “Because you really fucked up with me.”

* * *

The next day, I go back to work, fully expecting Hana to avoid me. But when I reach the shuttle in the morning, she smiles and waves me over to sit with her.

 

“Are you feeling better?” she asks.

 

“Much,” I reply.

 

“I’m glad.”

 

The shuttle takes off then, and I stare out the viewport in lieu of making conversation. I cannot for the life of me figure out why Hana is so kind to me all the time.

 

“Hana?” I ask finally. “Why are you always so nice to me?”

 

“Because,” she says, looking surprised. “I like you.”

 

“Oh,” I say stupidly. “Well… good.”

 

_What the hell does that mean?_ I wonder. She likes me? That can’t mean than she has feelings for me, can it? No, I tell myself immediately, there’s no possible way she would. Hana is beautiful, after all. She could have anyone. Why would she waste her time on me? She must mean that she likes me as a friend. But this is almost as baffling. What is there about me to like?

 

I don’t ask her this, however. It’s my good fortune to have Hana as a friend, and I won’t question it.

 

We reach the moon, and Hana and I go to our respective offices. I try to concentrate on my work, but there’s too much on my mind. I try not to think about my father, Siri, and the baby, and I’m mostly successful. It’s thoughts of Hana that won’t leave my mind.

 

With a sinking feeling, I realize that I’m in too deep. I have feelings for her. Maybe I have for a while now. I probably wouldn’t have drunkenly decided to go and see her, otherwise. At least I hadn’t blurted _that_ out to her. She probably wouldn’t have stood for it.

 

I have to hide these feelings, I realize. I want to keep Hana as a friend, but she might not want anything to do with me if she knew how I really felt. She probably has men throwing themselves at her all the time, and is sick of it.

 

When I see Hana again on the shuttle that evening, my resolve wavers. I sit next to her, heart pounding. How can I keep her as a friend, but not have her guess the way I feel?

 

“Granta?” she asks.

 

“Yes?” I reply.

 

“I was wondering if you wanted to have dinner together, some time.”

 

“Oh… that would be nice,” I say.

 

“I mean… as a date,” she clarifies. “There’s not much to do on Prynnash, I know, but… I could cook something for you.”

 

I blink at her. “You know how to cook?” I say dumbly. There are communal kitchens on Prynnash, left over from the days when we had slaves to feed. Most of the miners live in barracks, so they don’t have kitchen facilities.

 

“Yeah,” she says. “I’m not that great at it, but it might be better than whatever the kitchens are serving. So, what do you say?”

 

“I would love that,” I say honestly.

 

We arrange to meet at the end of the week, after the workday is over. I’m filled with excitement, and nervousness. I’ve never been on a real date before. I’m not sure what to expect.

 

There’s really only one person I can ask, so I decide to go see Siri. Luckily, she’s still in her office when I get there.

 

“Are you alright?” she asks when I enter, looking concerned.

 

I frown. “Yes, I’m fine.”

 

“It’s just, you stormed out the other night.”

 

Oh, right. “It was just a lot to process,” I tell her.

 

“I know this must be weird for you,” she says.

 

I shake my head. Weird doesn’t even begin to cover it. I never, ever thought that Siri and my father would have children. My father is rather old for it. But Siri’s a good deal younger than he is, and obviously, it was possible for them to conceive.

 

“I’ll get used to the idea,” I tell her. “Listen, I need your advice.”

 

“Oh, sure. What’s up?”

 

“Well… I have a date,” I confess.

 

Siri beams at me. “That’s incredible! Who with?”

 

“Hana,” I say.

 

“Wow, really? You asked her out?”

 

“Actually, she asked me,” I say.

 

“Good for her!” she says. “So, how can I help?”

 

“Well…” I don’t like admitting this, but if I’m going to ask for advice it seems unavoidable. “I haven’t ever really been on a date before. I don’t know what I should do.”

 

Siri looks surprised. I suppose it is a bit unusual. I’m thirty-six, after all.

 

“I don’t know how much help I can be,” she confesses. “I haven’t ever really dated anyone except Xan.”

 

This makes sense, I realize, remembering that the Jedi had had rules against that sort of thing. “Still, all I know is what I’ve seen on the Holonet,” I say.

 

“What are the two of you going to be doing?”

 

“She’s cooking dinner for me.”

 

“Well, I’d bring something to contribute, then. Like a bottle of wine, for instance.”

 

“I can do that,” I say. I keep a stock of alcohol on hand, and there are several unopened bottles that might be suitable.

 

Siri gives me an assessing look. “And you’re _sure_ you’re alright?”

 

I sigh. “This situation with you being pregnant is difficult for me.”

 

“I know it’s unexpected,” she says.

 

“That’s not the problem,” I tell her. “The problem is that my father doesn’t know anything about raising a child. He barely raised me. And he did a lot of damage. I don’t want to see that happen to this baby.”

 

“It won’t,” Siri says. “I won’t let it.”

 

“That’s not the only thing bothering me,” I continue. “What if this baby is Force-sensitive?”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

I shrug. “We both know my father only puts up with me because I’m his only child. If he has a Force-sensitive child, a child he actually wants…”

 

“I’m not so sure he wants this child,” Siri says.

 

“But he loves you,” I say, frowning.

 

“He loves you, too.”

 

I shake my head. “No, he doesn’t. I’m a disappointment. I have been ever since I was born.”

 

“Granta, that’s not true!”

 

“How would you know?” I challenge. “You weren’t there. My father was happy to let my mother raise me all on her own, and when she died he sent me off to school so he wouldn’t have to be troubled with raising me himself!”

 

“He was young,” Siri argues. “He didn’t know what to do. This time will be different. I’ll make sure of it.”

 

“I hope you’re right,” I say. 

 

The truth is that I don't have much hope. My father isn’t likely to do much better this time around than he did with me. But I was happy, living on Nierport VII with my mother. I probably would have turned out alright if she hadn’t died. This baby will have its mother, and it will have me, too. Maybe between the two of us, we can give it a good life.


	4. A Matter of Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m posting two chapters at once again to make up for how short this one is.

_There’s a panic in this house and it’s bound to surface,_

_Just walkin’ through the front door makes me nervous_

_It’s creepin’ up the floorboards, got me wonderin’ where I stand_

_I cannot put out the fire, I got a book of matches in my hand_

_-The Killers_

* * *

(Siri)

 

After Granta leaves, I head home. Xan’s been avoiding me ever since I told him I was pregnant, but I’m determined not to let him avoid the issue any longer. We have to figure out what we’re going to do.

 

I was devastated to learn that Xanatos was killing Jedi. I believe him when he says it isn’t something he wants to do, but I can’t let the situation go on. The more he does it, the more at risk he is of falling to the dark side. And there are so few Jedi left.

 

Xan doesn’t come home until late that night, probably hoping I’d be in bed already. But I’ve been waiting up for him.

 

“We need to talk,” I tell him.

 

He sighs. “Alright.”

 

“We have to decide what to do,” I say. “I still think going into hiding is the best idea.”

 

“And I don’t,” Xan replies. “I know you don’t like it, but I have the situation under control. As long as I serve Vader well, we have nothing to fear.”

 

“I don’t want you serving Vader.”

 

“I know you hate it,” he says. “But it’s the safest thing for us. If we ran away, the Empire would look for us. What do you think they’d do if they found us?”

 

“You just want to keep things the way they are because you enjoy what Vader has you doing!” I accuse.

 

“How can I enjoy it when I know it causes you pain?”

 

I sigh, chastised. “I still don’t think this is safe. What will happen when Vader no longer has use for you? Do you really think he’ll let us live? And what about the baby?”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“The baby is Force-sensitive,” I tell him. I’ve known this for a while. I can sense it, just as I sensed it when I became pregnant. I hadn’t wanted to tell Granta, but Xan needs to know. “If Vader kills the two of us, will he kill the baby, too? Or will he try and raise it up as a Sith?”

 

“That would violate the Rule of Two,” Xan points out.

 

“Well, Dooku obviously didn’t have any problems breaking it,” I say. “What makes you think Vader would be different?”

 

“I still think the safest thing to do is to stay put, at least for now,” he says. “In time, we can reevaluate.”

 

I hate the very idea of this. Another option occurs to me- I could just leave with Granta and go into hiding. But what would happen to Xan once Vader no longer has anything to threaten him with? Besides, I can’t bring myself to leave him.

 

“Alright,” I agree reluctantly.

* * *

So we stay on Prynnash. Every now and then, Xanatos is called to do Vader’s bidding. I hate this, of course, and we have many arguments about it. I still think we should run, but Xan won’t hear it.

 

I begin to have symptoms of pregnancy. Morning sickness is the main one, coming on in the second month. There’s also fatigue and nausea to contend with.

 

I visit our resident doctor regularly. He copes fairly well for someone used to treating on-the-job injuries. Xan never goes with me to the doctor, and I don’t ask him to.

 

One day, Doctor Ullric tells me I might want to bring Xan along for the next visit. When I ask why, he says it’s because he should be able to determine the baby’s gender by then.

 

When I issue the invitation, though, Xan looks uncomfortable.

 

“You don’t have to come,” I say, trying not to feel hurt. He doesn’t seem very interested in this baby.

 

“I don’t see what purpose would be served by my being there.”

 

“Don’t you want to know if it’s a boy or a girl?”

 

“It doesn’t make much difference, does it?”

 

“That’s not the point,” I say.

 

“Then what is?”

 

I frown. “Do you even want this baby?”

 

Xan looks at me warily. “This baby is just going to give Vader one more thing to hold over me.”

 

“That’s not what I asked.”

 

He sighs. “Fine, I’ll go to the doctor with you. Is that what you want me to say?”

 

“What I _want_ is for you to want this child!”

 

“I don’t know if I do or not,” he confesses. “It doesn’t seem real, somehow.”

 

“I might know how we can fix that,” I say. “Reach out with the Force and sense the baby.”

 

Xan does as I say. I can feel him reach out; I can also feel his reluctance to do so. For some reason, he doesn’t want to get attached.

 

From within me, I can feel the baby’s Force presence react to Xan’s probe. I beam. Surely now, things will be different.

 

“I’ll go to the doctor with you,” Xan says quietly. “I’d like to be there.”

* * *

 

In the waiting room at the doctor’s office, Xan and I make conversation.

 

“Granta actually asked me for vacation time today,” he says.

 

“Good for him!” I say. Granta works far too much.

 

“He never takes time off.”

 

“He probably wants to go off-planet with Hana.”

 

Xan frowns. “Why would he want that?”

 

“They’re dating,” I tell him. Granta and Hana’s first date had gone well despite Granta’s nervousness, and they’d continued to see each other. “Didn’t you know?”

 

“No, I didn’t,” he says, frown deepening.

 

“I take it you don’t approve, then?”

 

“Granta can do better,” he says.

 

“Hana is a perfectly nice girl!” I protest.

 

“No, she isn’t,” Xan says.

 

“What do you mean?” I ask. Xan barely knows Hana. He’d been the one to hire her initially, but after that she’d worked for me and then Granta.

 

But he refuses to elaborate.

 

The doctor calls us in a few moments later. I get situated on the exam table, Xan hovering at my side. The medical droid scans my stomach, projecting a holo of the image.

 

“How does everything look?” I ask.

 

“Everything seems to be in order,” Dr. Ullric replies. “And… yes, see those three lines between the legs, there? That means it’s a girl.”

 

I grin up at Xan. “We’re having a girl,” I tell him.

 

“And there’s nothing wrong with it?” Xan asks the doctor.

 

“I don’t see anything amiss. We’ll continue monitoring throughout the rest of the pregnancy, of course.”

 

Xan nods, looking thoughtful. He still doesn’t seem very excited about this baby. I can only hope that this will change with time.

* * *

 

A couple months go by, and most of my symptoms abate. There’s a definite swell to my midsection now.

 

One day, I’m talking with Granta when I feel the baby kick. This isn’t the first time, but it’s the first time it’s happened around him.

 

“Oh, she’s kicking,” I say, pressing a hand to my stomach. “Do you want to feel?”

 

“No, thank you,” Granta says, looking troubled.

 

“What’s wrong?” I ask.

 

“Is the baby Force-sensitive? Do you know by now?”

 

I sigh. I hate to hurt him further, but there’s no use in lying to him. He’ll find out the truth eventually. “Yes, she is.”

 

Granta looks disappointed. “I see.”

 

“Xan won’t love you any less once the baby is born,” I tell him.

 

Granta snorts. “I don’t think he loves me now.”

 

“Of course he does!”

 

“Well, he has a funny way of showing it,” Granta says.

 

I’m not sure what I can say. Granta’s right, in a way. Xanatos isn’t exactly a caring father. But he must love Granta. What kind of father wouldn’t love their child?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and/or comments are much appreciated.


	5. Between Me And You

_Never thought it’d be so hard_

_These hours I’m working ain’t nearly enough_

_And sometimes it’s like a bullet came and blasted me right out of the blue_

_And I feel like I’ve got nothing to show_

_And I’ve been wondering what I’m supposed to do_

_And I’m doing my best not to let it get_

_And I’m doing my best not to let it get_

_Between me and you_

_-Brandon Flowers_

* * *

 

(Xanatos)

 

When Siri first told me she was pregnant, I didn’t know what to think. Once the information sank in, I saw the baby as an inconvenience, just one more thing for Vader to hold over me.

 

Then I reached out to the baby with the Force, and saw an image of her when Siri went in for her scan. Now the situation seems real. I’m especially glad that this baby is strong in the Force. I’d been very disappointed that Granta wasn’t.

 

Vader is still sending me out to do his dirty work. One day, he sends me to Tatooine after a rumored Jedi. Unusually, he doesn’t have much information- just that a man with a lightsaber was seen out in the desert.

 

It’s not much information to go on, and I’m on Tatooine for a while tracking down the lead. Using the Force to try and sense the Jedi proves useless. Either there isn’t one on the planet, or they’re hiding themselves exceptionally well.

 

Finally, I hear some gossip that sounds promising- there’s a hermit living in the Jundland Wastes who is rumored to be a wizard. There’s no mention of a lightsaber, but it seems like a good enough lead. I rent a swoop in town and head out there.

 

After hours of riding through the hot sun, I find a small house located on a high cliff. This must be where the hermit lives. I park the swoop and approach the house.

 

Before I can get to the door, it slides open. To my surprise, a familiar figure is standing in the doorway.

 

“Xanatos?” he asks, sounding astonished.

 

I resist the urge to groan aloud. This just got a lot more complicated. “Hello, Kenobi.”

 

“How did you find me?” he demands.

 

“Look, can I come inside?” I ask. “I’m roasting out here.”

 

Kenobi allows me to enter. The house is small, made up of mostly one room, but at least it’s slightly cooler than it is outside.

 

“How did you find me?” Kenobi repeats.

 

“I heard there was a man with a lightsaber out here in the desert,” I say. “And the locals think you’re a wizard. Is this what you call keeping a low profile?”

 

“What made you come looking for me?” he asks.

 

“Well… as a matter of fact, I was sent to kill you.”

 

His hand flies to his lightsaber. “Vader sent you?”

 

“Relax, I’m not actually going to do it,” I say. It’s the same as it was years ago- I can’t kill Kenobi, because Siri would never forgive me.

 

“Vader doesn’t know my identity, does he? He just knows there’s a Jedi here.”

 

I frown. “How do you know that?”

 

“Because,” Kenobi says, looking at me with haunted eyes. “If he knew I was here, he’d have come himself.”

 

I digest this. It’s true that Kenobi’s name is at the top of the wanted lists, above even Yoda’s. I’d assumed it was because of his exploits during the war. For whatever reason, though, Kenobi is a high-priority target, and it makes sense that Vader would want to deal with him personally.

 

“Look, give me your lightsaber,” I say. “I’ll take it to Vader and tell him I killed you. That should buy you some time to run and hide somewhere else.”

 

“I can’t do that,” Kenobi says. “I can’t leave Tatooine, and I’m not giving you my lightsaber.”

 

I sigh. Of course he won’t make this easy. “I have to bring something back to Vader,” I say.

 

“You’re working for him, then? Does Siri know?”

 

“I’m not doing it by choice,” I explain. “Vader’s threatened to kill Siri and Granta unless I do as he says. And yes, she knows. She understands why I have to do this.”

 

“Somehow I doubt that,” Kenobi says mildly.

 

“Look,” I say, crossly. “If you won’t give me your lightsaber, just what am I supposed to do? I can’t go back to Vader empty-handed.”

 

“Does he know for sure there’s a Jedi here?”

 

“No, he just heard rumors of one.”

 

“So tell him the rumors were exaggerated,” Kenobi suggests. “Tell him there is no Jedi on Tatooine.”

 

“You think he’s going to believe that?” I ask. “I don’t want to risk Siri’s life on the chance that he will. What if he decides to come here himself and look around?”

 

“He won’t do that. Vader wouldn’t come to Tatooine lightly.”

 

“How can you be sure?”

 

“I know him,” Kenobi says, the haunted look back in his eyes.

 

“You _know_ him?” I ask. As far as I’m aware, no one had even heard of Vader until after Order 66 was issued. “Where did he come from? Why does he wear the mask?”

 

“I can’t tell you that,” Kenobi says, shaking his head. “Believe me, the less you know about Darth Vader, the better.”

 

I disagree. “More information can only be helpful,” I say.

 

“Not in this case.”

 

“Fine,” I say, testily. “Keep your secrets.”

 

“So you’ll tell Vader there’s no Jedi hiding on Tatooine?”

 

“Yes,” I sigh. “But if he doesn’t buy it, I swear I’ll come back here, and I _will_ kill you.”

 

“You may try,” Kenobi says mildly. “Listen, you can’t tell anyone where I am. Not even Siri.”

 

I frown. “Why not? She’d be glad to know you’re safe.” Siri knows Kenobi is alive, because he’s still on the wanted lists, but that’s all she knows.

 

“It would be dangerous for her,” he replies. “The fewer people who know where I am, the better.”

 

“You should leave the planet,” I tell him. “If the rumors keep circulating about a Jedi here, Vader may send someone else to investigate.”

 

“I’ll be more careful,” Kenobi says. “Now, do I have your word that you’ll keep my location a secret?”

 

“Alright,” I say reluctantly. “I won’t tell anyone where you are.”

 

It galls that I’m protecting Kenobi, but what else can I do? Siri would never forgive me if I allowed anything to happen to him.

* * *

 

Vader isn’t pleased when I return empty-handed. “You have nothing for me?” he demands.

 

“I did all I could,” I tell him. “But none of the information led to anything concrete. As far as I can tell, there is no Jedi on Tatooine. Maybe there was, once, but not anymore.”

 

I force myself to act naturally, keeping all my trepidation behind durasteel-strong shields. I don’t know if my shields would stand up to a Sith’s mind probe, but Vader hasn’t ever tried to read my mind before, and I’m hoping he won’t attempt it now.

 

“Very well,” Vader says finally. “You are dismissed.”

 

I take my leave, returning to my ship and taking off. I chart a course for Prynnash, and before long I’m in hyperspace. I’ve been away too long, and it will be good to see Siri.

* * *

 

In the months that follow, Siri and I continue to argue about our course of action.

 

“As far as we know, Vader doesn’t know I’m pregnant,” she says at one point. “If we go into hiding before the baby is born, he won’t find out about her.”

 

“And I still say that running is too great of a risk,” I reply. “As long as I do what Vader wants, we aren’t in any danger.”

 

Siri sighs, one hand going to her swollen stomach. She’s gotten quite large, and the baby is due soon. “We’re in danger as long as he knows where we are,” she says. “He won’t let us live forever.”

 

“Maybe not,” I allow. “But for now, he still needs my help. That’s what keeps us safe.”

 

“If we ran away, you wouldn’t have to kill Jedi anymore,” Siri points out.

 

“I’m doing what I have to to keep you safe,” I say testily. “I’m sorry it upsets you, but I don’t regret it.”

* * *

 

A short time later, Vader sends me out after another Jedi. Siri is angry with me for going when she’s so close to her due date, but I can’t exactly refuse him.

 

Vader sends me to the planet Hinakuu after an unknown Jedi. Upon arrival, I meditate until I can pick out the unmistakable Force signature of a Jedi. Upon locating them, I encounter another familiar face.

 

“The galaxy certainly has an odd sense of humor,” I say flatly.

 

Bant Eerin stares at me warily. Behind her is a scrawny Faleen girl. Neither one of them is dressed in Jedi robes, but I realize it was the Faleen I’d sensed. She looks young, and obviously isn’t adept at hiding herself in the Force.

 

“Your Padawan?” I ask Eerin.

 

“Sort of,” she replies. “I lost my Padawan during Order 66. Garania lost her Master. It seemed like a good fit.”

 

“Safer if you split up,” I remark.

 

“She’s fifteen,” Eerin says. “That’s too young to be on her own.”

 

I shake my head. I’d wager that the Jedi had this girl on the front lines during the war, despite her tender age.

 

“Master, who is he?” Garania asks.

 

“This is Xanatos Omega,” Eerin tells her.

 

The girl’s eyes go wide. Apparently she knows me by reputation.

 

“What I want to know,” Eerin says. “Is what you’re doing here.”

 

“Vader’s caught wind of you,” I say. “Well, he knows there’s a Jedi on Hinakuu, anyway.”

 

“Somehow I doubt you came to warn us,” Eerin says flatly.

 

I tell her about the arrangement Vader’s forced me into. “Give me your lightsaber,” I say. “I’ll take it to Vader and tell him I killed you.”

 

“You mean you’re not going to kill us?” the Padawan asks, sounding surprised.

 

“Your Master here is a friend of my wife’s,” I say flatly. “In the interest of marital harmony, I have to let her go.” I bare my teeth. “I could always kill you, though.”

 

“You won’t do that,” Eerin says.

 

“I’ve killed plenty of Jedi,” I retort.

 

“But you’re resisting the dark side,” Eerin replies. “That takes strength.”

 

“Just give me your damn lightsaber,” I say. “And you two had better leave the planet.”

 

“We were just passing through, anyway,” Eerin says, handing over her lightsaber.

 

Garania gasps. “Master, are you sure?”

 

“We’ll still have one lightsaber between the two of us,” she replies. “And it’s too dangerous to use it much anyway.”

 

At least Eerin has some sense, unlike Kenobi and his ridiculous stubbornness.

* * *

 

I return to Vader and hand over Eerin’s lightsaber. He stares at it for a long moment.

 

“Can I go now?” I ask impatiently.

 

“You killed the Jedi who wielded this blade?” Vader asks,

 

“Of course I did,” I say, checking my shields. They’re as strong as ever.

 

“You are lying,” Vader says.

 

“No, I’m not,” I insist, heart beginning to pound. “Why would I lie? I know what’s at stake here.”

 

Vader reaches out, holding me in place with the Force. I struggle to break free, but his grip is too strong.

 

He continues to hold me as he goes to the comm unit and calls for assistance. In minutes, a group of stormtroopers arrive.

 

“Take him to the brig,” Vader orders.

 

A soon as he releases me from his Force grip, I spring into action, igniting my lightsaber.

 

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Vader warns me. “Not unless you wish your wife and son to pay the price. Not to mention your unborn child.”

 

My heart sinks. So he does know about the baby.

 

“Fine,” I say, powering off my ‘saber. “I’ll cooperate.”

 

I’m marched down to the brig and led to a cell. My lightsaber is taken from me, but they don’t cut me off from the Force. But before I can try to break free from the ‘troopers and make a run for it, I feel a prick in my arm and unconsciousness rushes over me.

 

I awake with no clear idea of how much time has passed. Still, my objective hasn’t changed. I have to get out of here somehow. So I bide my time, and when a stormtrooper comes in to bring me a meal, I mind trick him into giving me his weapon, then shoot him.

 

I strip him and take his armor for myself. It fits alright, but it won’t hold up to close scrutiny. I’ll just have to hope it gets me far enough.

 

I march out of the cell and down the corridor. There are a few officers at a station at the end of the hall, and I kill them before they can set off any alarms.

 

It burns me to leave without my lightsaber, but I don’t want to take the time to search for it. It’s probably with Vader, anyway.

 

I make my way to the hanger bay where I’d landed my ship. To my relief, it’s still there. It’s under guard, but my disguise allows me to walk right up to the 'troopers stationed there and quietly mind-trick them into looking the other way while I board.

 

Quickly, I take off. The Star Destroyer isn’t in hyperspace, so I’m able to fly out of the hangar bay safely. I check the navigational system, intending to chart a course for Prynnash, but what I find freezes me in my tracks.

 

We’re already in the Prynnash system. I must have been unconscious for longer than I’d thought. There’s only one reason Vader would come here. He must be after Siri and Granta.

 

I punch a code into the ship’s comm. In just a few moments, I’m connected with Hana.

 

“Hana, it’s Xanatos,” I say quickly. “Listen, there’s no time to explain. The Empire is already in-system. It’s time to put the plan into action.”

 

“Understood,” Hana replies immediately. “I’ll comm you when we’re safe.”

 

I set a course for Prynnash V, but before I get very far warning alarms start going off, alerting me that I’m being pursued. My scopes show a squadron of TIE fighters behind me.

 

I swear, switching the controls from autopilot to manual. I’ll have to lose them before I can head home.


	6. This Is Everything

_I saved up all my sunshine_

_Just to see you more clear_

_I’m a little short on solar_

_And I haven’t given in_

_No, I’m going to hold you anyway_

_And I’ll do it without shaking_

_Yes, I’ll love you always_

_And I’ll do it without aching_

_Yes, I’d give you anything_

_Yes, I’d give you anything_

_I gave you everything_

_-Tegan and Sara_

* * *

(Siri)

 

It’s the weekend, so I’ve invited Granta and Hana over. Xan’s gone, and I don’t want to be alone in case the baby comes. I’d made Xan rush me to the doctor a week ago, certain I was in labor. But Dr. Ullric explained that although I was having contractions, this was what’s called ‘false labor’, and the baby might not arrive for another couple of weeks.

 

I’d been furious when Vader called Xan away a few days ago. I actually forbid him from going, certain he’d miss the birth. But Xan was able to talk sense into me. He can’t defy Vader, after all.

 

Granta, Hana, and I are sitting around talking when Hana’s comm goes off. She steps out to take the call, but is only gone for a few moments. When she comes back into the room, her whole demeanor has changed.

 

“What’s up?” Granta asks.

 

“We need to go, right now,” Hana says seriously. “That was Xanatos. The Empire is on their way here. They’re already in-system. We have to run.”

 

“Why would he comm you?” Granta asks, frowning. “Why not one of us?”

 

I get a flash of insight from the Force, and everything falls into place. “That’s why she’s here,” I say. “She’s- what, a gun for hire?”

 

“I prefer the term ‘mercenary,’” Hana admits. “But there’s no time to talk. We can have this conversation on the way to my ship.”

 

“You have a ship?” Granta asks.

 

Hana nods. “It’s in one of the remote hanger bays, where it’s less likely to be noticed.”

 

“If we’re short on time, we should take something closer,” I suggest.

 

“My ship is fast, and well-armed,” Hana says. “It’s also got a few different transponder codes. In it, we can disappear easily.”

 

“Okay,” I agree. “Your ship it is.”

 

We leave the house and head to the hangar bay on foot. It would be faster to take a speeder, but because the house is walking distance from the base, we don’t keep any here.

 

“So you’re a mercenary?” Granta asks Hana.

 

“Xanatos hired me to protect you and Siri,” she says. “He thought something like this might happen.”

 

“That’s why you started going out with me, isn’t it?”

 

“No, it isn’t.”

 

“Why, then?”

 

“I told you,” Hana says. “I like you.”

 

This makes Granta smile.

 

Suddenly, I feel a gushing sensation between my legs. I look down, but can’t see past the swell of my stomach. Still, I feel wetness spreading down my legs.

 

“Oh no,” I moan.

 

Hana and Granta both turn to look at me.

 

“I think my water just broke,” I say.

 

“Right _now?”_ Granta demands. 

 

“Hey, I’m not in control here,” I protest.

 

Then I groan as a powerful contraction doubles me over. This one hurts a lot more than the others I’ve been experiencing, and it lasts much longer.

 

“Can you walk?” Hana asks.

 

“I think so,” I say, taking a few tentative steps.

 

“Why don’t I run and get a speeder,” Granta suggests. “I can pick you up and we can get to the hangar that way.”

 

“No, that will take too long,” Hana says. “Go to your ship and take off. We’ll rendezvous at Illum.”

 

“I can’t leave Siri,” Granta protests.

 

“I’ll look after Siri,” Hana says.

 

I want to protest that I don’t need looking after, but I bite my tongue. I am about to be fairly incapacitated, after all. 

 

“It’s better if we split up, anyway,” Hana continues. “The Empire will be less likely to capture all of us.”

 

Reluctantly, Granta agrees, heading back down towards the base.

 

“Come on,” Hana says to me. “We need to hurry.”

 

Despite the urgency of the situation, I have to stop increasingly often as I’m hit with painful contractions. It’s hard to tell, but they seem to be getting closer together. I’d read that labor could last anywhere from eight to eighteen hours, or even longer. But at the rate things are progressing, I get the feeling that this baby is coming sooner rather than later.

 

We’ve just reached the hangar when a yacht takes off from the base. “That’s Granta,” Hana says, watching it depart. “I hope he makes it out.”

 

Hana’s ship is indeed noticeable. It doesn’t blend in at all with any of the other ships on the base. It’s a battered-looking YT-class freighter,a favorite of smugglers and other unsavory types.

 

When we board the ship, Hana rushes to the cockpit to initiate takeoff. I follow more slowly, having to stop and breathe through contractions.

 

“Strap in,” Hana says when I finally make it up to the cockpit.

 

I do so, taking the copilots seat, and moments later we take off. When we clear the atmosphere, there’s no sign of Granta’s ship. There is, however, a large Star Destroyer straight ahead of us.

 

Hana swears and swerves us out of the way, but we’ve already been spotted. A squadron of TIE fighters spit out of the Star Destroyer and take up pursuit.

 

“I don’t suppose you’re in any condition to man the gunnery turret?” Hana asks me.

 

“I can try,” I say, wanting to be of help. Then another contraction hits and I groan in pain.

 

“Forget it,” Hana says. “I’ve got this.”

 

But the TIEs continue to chase us, maneuvering us ever closer to the Star Destroyer. Hana takes out a few of them, but they get a few hits in, too.

 

“Damn!” she yells as an alarm begins to blare. “That last hit took out the hyperdrive!”

 

My heart sinks. Without a hyperdrive, our chances of escape are close to zero.

 

“It’s okay,” Hana says. “If I can just get these guys taken care of, we can-“

 

She breaks off, frowning. She pulls at the yoke, but the ship refuses to budge. We’re still moving, but very slowly… and directly in the direction of the Star Destroyer.

 

“They’ve got us in a tractor beam,” Hana says. “Well, let them try and take us. We’ll put up a fight, won’t we?”

 

I’m in no condition to do much of anything. “You should get to an escape pod,” I tell her. “It’s me they want, not you.”

 

“No way,” Hana says. “I’ve got a job to do.”

 

“Hana, they’ll kill you,” I say desperately.

 

“No, they won’t,” she insists. “Stay here.”

 

She disappears from the cockpit. I unbuckle myself and slowly stand. Hesitantly, I walk out into the hall.

 

“Here,” Hana says, handing me a blaster. “If we can fight our way through-“

 

“Hana, we can’t,” I say. “The two of us, against a Star Destroyer? It’s suicide. Get out of here while you still can.”

 

“I won’t leave you,” she insists.

 

So we take cover near the ramp, waiting to be boarded. We feel a bump as the ship docks in the Star Destroyer’s hangar bay. A few minutes later, the ramp lowers, and a squad of stormtroopers board the ship.

 

Hana and I take out most of them, and the survivors beat a hasty retreat. I breath through my contractions, cursing my bad luck. Why did I have to go into labor now of all times? I’m worse than useless like this.

 

Then I feel a cold sensation sweeping over me. I gulp, knowing what it has to be.

 

Sure enough, the next being to board Hana’s ship is Darth Vader.

 

Hana, to her credit, doesn’t hesitate. Ignoring my cry of protest, she throws herself out of cover and fires directly at Vader. Vader ignites his lightsaber and deflects the bolts back at her. Several of them hit her, and she goes down hard. Blood begins to pool around her body.

 

I feel sick. Hana just gave her life for me, and it didn’t even do any good.

 

“Do you surrender?” Vader booms. 

 

Unwillingly, I have to admit that I’m in no shape to do anything else. I toss my blaster aside, and attempt to stand- but another contraction hits and I double over in pain.

 

“What’s the matter with you?” Vader demands.

 

“I’m having a baby,” I spit at him.

 

Vader doesn’t outwardly react to this statement, but in the Force I feel a great swell of rage. “Sergeant!”he barks, and a trooper scurries up the ramp. “Take the prisoner to medbay. See to it that she’s restrained.”

 

The sergeant orders his men to collect me. A stormtrooper grabs me by each arm, and I’m all but dragged off the ship. There’s a gurney waiting at the base of the ramp, and I’m loaded onto it. One of the 'troopers produces a pair of binders, cuffing my wrist to the gurney. I could break the binders with the Force, but even if I tried to run, I wouldn’t get far.

 

I’m wheeled through the ship’s corridors before finally arriving in medbay, where I’m whisked into a private room in the back and transferred to a bed. One of the stormtroopers binds me to the bed, then I’m left alone.

 

A few minutes later, a man in Imperial uniform comes in. “Alright,” he says, clasping his hands together. “I’m Doctor Carzac. How far apart are your contractions?”

 

“I’m not sure,” I say icily. “I’ve been a little preoccupied with running for my life.”

 

“Believe me, if your life was in danger, they’d have killed you already,” he says.

 

“Are you an actual doctor?” I ask suspiciously.

 

“I am.”

 

“Did you work for the Republic?”

 

“During the war, yes. Before that I had a practice on Corellia.”

 

“So you joined up to aid the war effort?”

 

“That’s right.”

 

“Then why the _hell_ did you stay on once the Republic became the Empire?” I demand. “Isn’t the war over, officially?”

 

“I stayed on because I’m a damn good doctor, and the Empire didn’t exactly give me a choice,” Dr. Carzac retorts.

 

“Fine,” I allow. “I suppose you’ll do.”

 

“Not like you have many options, is it?” he points out.

 

Another contraction hits then, and I wince.

 

“Okay, there’s one,” he says, glancing at his chrono. “Once you have another we’ll know how far apart they are, and that will tell us where you are in the process.”

 

“I want my husband,” I say once the pain fades. “I don’t suppose he’s here?”

 

“He works for Vader, right?” Carzac asks. “That’s above my pay grade, I’m afraid.”

 

“Well, can you find out where he is?” I ask.

 

“I’ll look into it after your next contraction,” he promises. “Now, if you would undress for me, I need to be sure everything’s in order.”

 

It’s a struggle to remove my pants one-handed, but eventually I manage. Dr. Carzac peers between my legs. “Looks good,” he tells me. “No sign of discoloration, anyway. You’re not dilated much yet, but that will change.”

 

A few minutes later, I have another contraction, Dr. Carzac seems pleased. “Contractions five minutes apart, lasting for approximately thirty seconds,” he says. “Things are progressing just fine.”

 

“What about my husband?” I remind him.

 

“I’ll see what I can do,” he tells me.

 

I’m left alone, with only a med droid for company. The doctor returns a few minutes later. 

 

“Well?” I demand.

 

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t find anything out,” he replies.

 

“Vader probably knows where he is,” I suggest.

 

“Lord Vader has gone to his quarters and given orders not to be disturbed,” Dr. Carzac says. “It’s more than my life is worth to bother him.”

 

Another contraction hits, and I cry out. They’re getting more painful.

 

“Would you like something for the pain?”

 

“No,” I grunt. I need to keep my wits about me.

 

I have plenty of time to regret my decision, as I continue to labor for another three hours. The doctor continues to check in on me, and the medidroid has me under constant observation.

 

Finally, after I feel like I can’t take the pain any longer, Dr. Carzac announces that it’s time to push. This lasts for another hour. The pain has lessened now, and pushing actually seems to help the contractions.

 

“Okay, the baby is crowning now,” the doctor says finally. “I need you to slow down a little.”

 

I swear at him, panting with exertion.

 

“I know, but this is to avoid any tearing, alright? It’s better if we let the head come out gradually.”

 

The pain increases, and I cry out. Then it lessens suddenly.

 

“That’s the head out,” the doctor says. “One more big push, okay?”

 

I push as hard as I can, crying out loudly.

 

There’s a moment of silence… then I hear a baby’s cry.

 

Dr. Carzac lifts up the baby, letting me see. Quickly, he suctions out her nose and mouth and wraps her in a blanket, then he hands her to me.

 

“Congratulations,” he says.

 

I take her in my arms, aware that I’m weeping. I’m not sure if it’s from joy or pain.

* * *

An hour later, everything is done. My daughter has been cleaned and examined, and I’ve delivered the afterbirth. I’m just trying to convince her to breastfeed when I feel that cold sensation again.

 

Vader strides into the room as though he belongs there. I’m filled with resentment.

 

“Where the hell is my husband?” I demand, yanking my tunic back over my breast.

 

Vader ignores me. “You will put this on,” he orders, holding up a Force inhibiting collar.

 

“No, I will not,” I say.

 

“If you do not cooperate, your baby will be taken from you, and you will not see it again.”

 

I narrow my eyes. “I’d like to see you try.”

 

“You are in no condition to fight back,” Vader says, reasonably. “Do not resist.”

 

“I’ll cooperate,” I say reluctantly. “As long as you let me see my husband.”

 

“Xanatos is currently unavailable,” Vader replies. “Now, will you do as I say, or must I take the child from you?”

 

Much as I hate to admit it, Vader’s right. I’m not exactly in a position to put up a fight. “Fine,” I say, grudgingly.

 

Vader approaches me, locking the collar around my neck. I’ve encountered inhibitors before, but only in training situations. Losing my connection to the Force is like losing one of my senses.

 

I glare at Vader. “Happy now?”

 

“You will be kept in medbay until the ship reaches Imperial Center,” Vader informs me. “Then you will be transferred to more permanent accommodations.”

 

So we’re going to Coruscant. I haven’t been there since I left the Order. Now it’s become Imperial Center. I wonder how much it’s changed.

 

I expect Vader to leave then, but he doesn’t. “You were once a friend of Obi-Wan Kenobi,” he says instead.

 

“That was a long time ago,” I say cautiously. Where is he going with this?

 

“Do you know where he is?”

 

“I wouldn’t even know he was alive if I hadn’t seen him on the wanted lists,” I tell him.

 

Vader regards me for a long moment. “You had better be telling the truth,” he says finally. “For your own sake.”

* * *

When the ship reaches Coruscant, I’m removed from medbay. They don’t cuff me this time, which allows me to carry my daughter in my arms. We’re escorted by a squadron of stormtroopers to a hanger bay, where we board a shuttle that takes us down to the planet.

 

I can’t see the viewport from where I’m sitting, so I don’t know where they’ve taken me until the shuttle lands. When we disembark, I see that we’re in The Works, an old industrial area of Coruscant that’s now largely abandoned. We’ve landed in a docking bay located inside one of the buildings here.

 

A middle-aged man in an officer’s uniform is there to greet us.

 

“You must be Siri Omega,” the man says in greeting. “I am Captain Welbri, I’m in charge of security here.”

 

I look at him warily.

 

“I’ll escort you to you rooms now. If you’ll follow me?”

 

The 'troopers continue to surround me as we follow the captain to a nearby turbolift. I’m a little surprised at the mention of rooms- I’d expected to be locked in a cell somewhere.

 

We travel upwards for a few moments, then disembark the lift. We walk down a hallway, before stopping in front of a door. Captain Welbri keys a code into the door, and it slides open. He enters the room, gesturing for me to follow him. The 'troopers remain outside.

 

“These will be your quarters,” Welbri informs me. “If there’s anything you need, please let me know.”

 

I look around. We’re in a sort of sitting room, which has a small kitchenette along one wall. There’s a door on the wall opposite that presumably leads to a bedroom of some kind.

 

“Please, have a look around,” Welbri says. “We’ve tried to accommodate you and the child as best we can.”

 

I go to the door, which opens for me automatically. There’s a large bed, and a crib in the corner. Another door leads to a well-appointed ‘fresher.

 

“I assume I’m to be locked in here?” I ask, not trusting this situation at all.

 

“Your rooms will be guarded,” the captain replies. “This is, of course, for your protection.”

 

“Do you know who I am?” I ask curiously.

 

“All I know is that your husband is a servant of Lord Vader’s,” Welbri replies. “And that I’ve been ordered to see to your accommodations.”

 

“I’d like to see my husband,” I say, hopefully. “I don't suppose you know where he is.”

 

“I’m not privy to that information, I’m afraid.”

 

“Right, well, here’s some more information for you. My daughter and I are only here as hostages, for my husband’s good behavior. So you needn’t waste your breath being polite.”

 

Captain Welbri blinks at me. “It’s no trouble,” he says. “Good manners cost nothing, after all.”

 

So that’s how it’s going to be. Well, a gilded cage is a cage all the same. Whether I’m in these rooms or locked in a cell doesn’t matter. My objective remains the same: I have to find a way out of here.

 

“Well,” Welbri says after a moment of silence. “I have my duties to attend to. I’ll come back and check on you this evening.”

 

With that, he leaves me alone.

 

My daughter begins to cry, then, and I sit down on the couch to feed her. She seems uninterested. I check her diaper, but she’s not wet. Finally, burping her seems to settle her down a bit.

 

I look down at her perfect face. This isn’t the environment I’d planned on raising my child in. Hopefully I won’t be here for long. At some point they have to allow me to see Xan, and then we can strategize.

 

I can only hope Granta got away. I haven’t heard anything about him, which I suppose is hopeful. I don’t know how I’ll be able to face him after Hana gave her life for me. I know how much he’d cared about her.

 

I put my daughter down for a nap, watching her sleep for a while. She needs a name, but I’ve been waiting for Xan before deciding on one.

 

After a few hours, a stormtrooper comes in to deliver a meal. I accept it, then stare down at it for a while, wondering if it’s safe to eat. But I’m going to have to eat something, I reason, and the kitchenette is empty of food, so I don’t really have a choice.

 

The next few days pass slowly. Meals are delivered three times a day, and Captain Welbri visits occasionally, ostensibly to check in on me. Although I resent this situation I’m in, it’s hard to resent Welbri. He’s unfailingly polite, asking after my comfort and how the baby’s doing.

 

I suggest to him that he ask Vader where Xan is, but to my surprise he says he doesn’t work for Vader.

 

“I answer directly to the Emperor himself,” he informs me.

 

I feel a chill spread over me at his words. “This is Palpatine’s facility?” I ask.

 

“It is,” he confirms.

 

“Is he here?”

 

“Only occasionally. His apartments are located in the Senate District.”

 

Relief fills me. Palpatine is one person I do not want to encounter. My interactions with Vader have been bad enough.

 

“So you have no information about where my husband is, then?”

 

“I’m afraid not.”

 

I wonder if Xan and I are being kept apart on purpose, maybe as an attempt to punish him. I still don’t even know what had caused the Empire to come to Prynnash in the first place. Xan must have done something to upset Vader.

 

I have to believe he’s alright, but without the Force to guide me, it’s difficult to be sure.


	7. In My Place

_I was scared, I was scared_

_Tired and under-prepared_

_But I wait for it_

 

_And if you go, if you go_

_And leave me down here on my own_

_Then I’ll wait for you, yeah_

_-Coldplay_

* * *

(Granta)

 

I manage to get away from Prynnash in spite of the Star Destroyer’s presence. They send a squadron of TIEs out after me, but I manage to evade them until I can make the jump to hyperspace.

 

It takes a while to reach Illum. Once there, I settle in to wait for Siri and Hana. A day goes by, then another. On the third day, my comm goes off.

 

“Granta, it’s me,” my father says. “Listen very carefully. I don’t have long. Siri’s been captured.”

 

So that’s why they haven’t come to meet me. “What about Hana?” I ask.

 

“Hana’s dead.”

 

I hear the words, but they don’t really sink in. I’m aware that my father is talking, but I don’t comprehend the words.

 

“She’s dead?” I ask numbly.

 

“Have you been listening to what I’ve been saying?” my father demands.

 

I squeeze my eyes shut, forcing myself to focus. “Sorry.”

 

“You need to go to Tatooine. There’s a Jedi living there, in the Jundland Wastes. He’ll help you.”

 

“Help me do what?”

 

“Rescue Siri, of course.”

 

I frown. “Why can’t you do it?”

 

“Vader’s keeping a close eye on me,” he replies. “It’s safer this way. Now, can I count on you?”

 

“Yes, of course.”

 

“Good,” he says shortly, and with that the connection goes dead.

 

I stare blankly in front of me for a long moment. Hana is dead. She must have been killed when they captured Siri. Logically, this makes sense. The Empire would have no use for her.

 

But I can’t quite believe it. I know my father would have no reason to lie to me. Maybe it just needs to sink in.

 

I chart a course for Tatooine and send the ship into hyperspace. There’s no point in staying here. I have a job to do.

* * *

I rent a landspeeder when I get to Tatooine and head out to the Jundland Wastes. It takes some time, but finally I come across a small dwelling in the middle of nowhere. This seems like a likely place for a Jedi to hide.

 

I reach the door, looking for a keypad. There’s no sign of one, so I knock instead. A few moments later, the door slides open.

 

The Jedi and I look at each other in surprise.

 

“He didn’t say it was you!” I exclaim.

 

“Hello, Granta,” Obi-Wan Kenobi says.

 

I frown. “You know who I am?”

 

“Oh, yes,” he replies.

 

“Well, good,” I say lamely. “Listen, I need your help.”

 

“I suppose Xanatos sent you? What kind of trouble has he gotten himself into?”

 

“It’s not him who’s in trouble. It’s Siri. The Empire’s captured her. I need your help to mount a rescue.”

 

Obi-Wan frowns. “I’m sorry to hear that, but I’m afraid I can’t be of any help.”

 

“But- my father said you would!” I protest.

 

“I simply can’t leave the planet.”

 

“Well, I can’t rescue her on my own,” I say. “I thought the two of you were friends.”

 

“We were,” he says cautiously.

 

“It’s not just Siri they’ve captured. Did you know she was pregnant? She’ll have had the baby by now.”

 

This at least seems to get through to him. “Alright,” he allows. “You’d better come inside.”

 

I enter the dwelling. It’s small and looks run-down, though he can’t have been living here for long; Order 66 was less than two years ago.

 

“Where is she being held?”

 

“I don't know,” I admit. “All I know is that there was a Star Destroyer at Prynnash. That must have been what captured her.”

 

“Do you know which Star Destroyer?”

 

I shake my head.

 

Obi-Wan sighs. “That’s not a lot of information to go on.”

 

“Hopefully my father will be in touch, and he can tell us more.”

 

“Have you tried contacting him?”

 

“I haven’t. He said Vader was keeping a close eye on him, so I don’t know if it would be safe to do so.”

 

“Why don’t you try it and see what happens?”

 

I do so, pulling out my comm, but the connection won’t go through.

 

“I guess they took his comm,” I say.

 

“Alright,” Obi-Wan says. “There’s one more thing we can try.”

 

“What’s that?”

 

“I’m going to meditate. I may be able to gather some information that way.”

 

“Oh,” I say. “Um, alright.”

 

“It may take a while. Try not to disturb me.”

 

With that, he settles down on the floor in a lotus position. I observe him for a while, but there’s not much to see.

 

After an hour or so, he stirs.

 

“Well?” I demand. “Did you find anything out?”

 

“They’re holding her on Coruscant,” Obi-Wan replies. “I can’t be more specific than that.”

 

“Is that good, or bad?” I ask.

 

“That depends,” Obi-Wan replies. “It won’t be difficult to get onto the planet unnoticed; even under Imperial rule there are enough beings on Coruscant that we’ll be able to blend in. The difficulty will be in infiltrating an Imperial facility. Not to mention actually getting her and the baby out.”

 

“But you can manage it, right?”

 

“I don’t think so,” he admits. “Not with just the two of us.”

 

“Maybe we can hire someone to help us,” I muse.

 

“I don’t think that’s the best idea,” Obi-Wan says. “I think we should try and find some surviving Jedi to assist us.”

 

“Do you know where any of them are?” I ask.

 

“I can find out,” he replies.

 

I groan. “You’re not going to meditate again, are you?”

 

“I’m afraid so.”

 

What follows is another interminable period of Obi-Wan sitting in place, appearing to do absolutely nothing. When he finally surfaces, he’s frowning.

 

“I assume you have a ship?” he asks me.

 

“Yes, of course. It’s in Bestine.”

 

“We need to leave,” Obi-Wan tells me. “I managed to locate a Jedi. She’s on Nar Shadda, but the sense of her in the Force feels weakened, somehow. I think she may be in trouble.”

 

“Great,” I say sarcastically. “Another rescue mission.”

 

Obi-Wan gives me a disapproving look. “We need all the help we can get,” he reminds me. “And now that I know there’s a Jedi in trouble, I have to help if I can.”

 

“Of course you do,” I sigh.

* * *

It doesn’t take long to get to Nar Shadda. When we land, I follow Obi-Wan through the city’s streets. He seems to unerringly know where we’re going- some application of the Force, I suppose.

 

Obi-Wan leads me into a part of the city I’ve never been in on any of my previous trips to the smuggler’s moon. It’s very run-down, full of abandoned buildings, and boasts a large homeless population.

 

We duck into an abandoned warehouse, and I finally speak up.

 

“Why would there be a Jedi hiding here?” I ask.

 

“Keep your voice down,” Obi-Wan admonishes me.

 

The warehouse is a large open space, mostly empty save for some dilapidated machinery sitting around, which looks long-abandoned. One corner of the space is enclosed, probably some sort of office, and it’s there that Obi-Wan leads me.

 

The door is jammed, but Obi-Wan manages to open it with the Force. We step inside.

 

There’s a human woman hunched in one corner. There are a few syringes scattered on the floor around her. She looks up when we enter.

 

“Oh, _shit,”_ she says, with feeling.

 

I glance at Obi-Wan. This can’t possibly be the Jedi we’re looking for, can it?

 

Obi-Wan approaches the woman, crouching down in front of her. “It’s Sandra, isn’t it?”

 

“Didn’t think you’d remember me,” the woman says shakily. “It figures that I could still manage to get in trouble with the Council, even after everything.”

 

“You’re not in trouble,” Obi-Wan says soothingly. “I’m here to help you.”

 

Sandra looks at him warily. “You shouldn’t be wasting your time on me. I’m a lost cause.”

 

“That’s not true,” Obi-Wan tells her. “You’ve been through a lot. We all have.”

 

“Yeah, but my coping mechanisms aren’t exactly Jedi-approved.”

 

“Is it spice, or death sticks?” Obi-Wan asks, tone devoid of judgement.

 

“Um, both,” Sandra replies. “Whichever I could get my hands on easier.”

 

“Do you want to get out of here? We have a ship.”

 

Sandra seems to notice me then. She frowns. “He’s not a Jedi, is he?”

 

“He’s a friend of mine,” Obi-Wan says. “We can trust him.”

 

“If I come with you… what then?”

 

“I’ll help you get clean. We can take you anywhere you want to go. Or, if you wish, you can help us with something.”

 

“What kind of something?”

 

“We’re going up against the Empire,” I say. “They’ve taken a former Jedi prisoner, and we have to mount a rescue.”

 

Sandra frowns at me. “Do I know you? You look familiar.”

 

“I don’t think we’ve met,” I hedge.

 

“This is Granta Omega,” Obi-Wan says.

 

“You’re Xanatos’ son,” Sandra realizes. “It’s not him they’ve captured, is it?”

 

“No,” I say. “It’s Siri. Did you know her?”

 

Sandra looks thoughtful. “I did, yes.” She turns to Obi-Wan. “Okay. I’ll come with you.”

 

We return to the ship with Sandra. Once there, she and Obi-Wan vanish into one of the cabins. He comes out a little while later.

 

“What the hell,” I demand. “This is the caliber of Jedi you find for us?”

 

“She’ll be able to help us once she’s back on her feet,” Obi-Wan says.

 

“And how long will that take?”

 

He ignores this. “I’m going to meditate some more.”

* * *

When Obi-Wan finishes meditating, he directs us to Illum, saying there’s another Jedi in trouble there. I bite back a comment about how I didn’t do this to rescue wayward Jedi, and fly us there.

 

When we reach the planet, Obi-Wan tells me to stay with the ship.

 

“Keep an eye on Sandra,” he tells me. “She shouldn’t be alone right now.”

 

Sandra is still shut in the cabin, as far as I know. It took us three days to reach Illum, and I haven’t seen her come out for that entire time. Obi-Wan’s been bringing her food. I eye the closed door speculatively, wondering if I should check on her. Obi-Wan would probably be upset if anything happened to her. But she’s not really my problem, is she?

 

I’m watching a holo in the ship’s lounge when Sandra finally emerges. She looks terrible. Her eyes are underscored by dark circles, and she’s shivering despite the blanket wrapped around her shoulders.

 

To my surprise, she comes and sits down next to me. “What are you watching?” she asks.

 

“Just some drama,” I say. “It’s not very good.”

 

“Where are we?” she asks.

 

“Illum,” I tell her. “Apparently there’s another Jedi here somewhere. Obi-Wan went to find him.”

 

“No shit,” she says softly. “I haven’t been to Illum since I was a Padawan.”

 

“How are you doing?” I ask.

 

She makes a face. “I feel pretty awful. Withdrawal’s a bitch.”

 

“Did you really know Siri?”

 

She nods. “How’s she been?”

 

“Well, she was doing fine until she got captured,” I say. “She and my father got married during the Clone Wars. She was pregnant when the Empire got her, but she will have had the baby by now.”

 

Sandra blinks at me. “Wow,” she says. “So, she’s happy with Xanatos, then?”

 

“As far as I know.”

 

“No shit,” Sandra says again. “Why did the Empire take her into custody, though? Don’t they usually just kill Jedi?”

 

I explain how Siri’s being used as a hostage against my father.

 

“So Xanatos is working for Vader,” Sandra muses. “That’s not totally surprising.”

 

“He claims that he doesn’t enjoy killing Jedi,” I say, feeling like I should defend him.

 

“That’s hard to believe,” Sandra says.

 

“But you’ll help us rescue Siri and the baby, won’t you?”

 

Sandra nods. “Of course I will.”

 

Curiosity gets the better of me then, and I have to ask. “So… what’s with the drug addiction? I thought Jedi were better than that.”

 

She winces. I suppose I could have phrased that better, but it’s too late now. “I was never a very good Jedi,” Sandra says. “I’d struggled with this sort of thing before. And then… when Order 66 went out… I felt it. We all did. We felt all the Jedi, dying all at once. It was… indescribable.”

 

I’d been with my father and Siri when the Order had come down. I’d seen their reactions. Siri had seemed to take it harder than my father did, but I could tell that even he was shaken. “I can’t imagine.”

 

“Did you know that death sticks dull your ability to feel the Force?”

 

“No, I didn’t.”

 

“Well, they do. I thought… it was easier, somehow, that way. I wouldn’t have to worry about slipping up and revealing myself as a Jedi. And… part of me felt like I didn’t deserve to have survived, when so many others hadn’t. I was undercover when the Order went out- that’s the only reason I made it. If I’d been with any clone troops, I’m sure they would have done for me.”

 

I wasn’t sure what to say to this. “I guess it’s good that we found you, then.”

 

“Yeah,” Sandra says quietly. “I’m glad you did.”

 

After a while, Obi-Wan returns to the ship, dragging the Jedi he’d spoken of along with him.

 

“Seriously?” I ask. The man looks to be at death’s door. He can’t even stand under his own power.

 

“He’ll be fine, once he gets some rest and nourishment,” Obi-Wan says calmly, taking the Jedi into one of the cabins.

 

I glance at Sandra. “Anyone you know?”

 

She shakes her head.

 

I sigh.

* * *

The Jedi on Illum turns out to be Garen Muln, who apparently is an old friend of Obi-Wan’s. He’s been living in a cave for quite some time now, Obi-Wan says, which is why he’s in such rough shape.

 

The next planet we go to is Smarteel, in Wild Space. None of these Jedi are anywhere near the Core, which I suppose is smart. Still, flying around the edges of the galaxy is starting to get tiresome.

 

Obi-Wan cares for Garen as we travel, with help from Sandra, who seems to be doing better. When we reach Smarteel, he allows me to leave the ship with him.

 

We don’t have to go far to find the Jedi. There’s two of them this time, a Master and apprentice, and I recognize the Master, a Mon Calamari, from my father’s trial. She’d testified against him.

 

To my surprise, the two Jedi readily agree to help us.

 

“Xanatos spared our lives,” says Bant. “He could have killed us, but he didn’t. He said he only did it because of Siri.”

 

“That’s probably true,” I say.

 

We go back to the ship. I expect Obi-Wan to go and meditate again, in order to produce another planet for us to travel to, but he doesn’t.

 

“I think five of us will be enough,” he tells me.

 

“Are you sure?” I ask.

 

“It feels right,” he tells me.

 

“Okay,” I say, not knowing whether I should buy into this or not. “So what’s our next move?”

 

“We need to get onto Coruscant. That might not be easy. Most of us will be on the wanted lists.”

 

“Can’t you just, I don’t know, use the Force somehow?”

 

“It will be better if we can sneak onto the planet undetected,” Obi-Wan says. “Then we can figure out where they’re holding Siri and the baby and start to plan how to get them out.”

 

“Hopefully my father will be in touch,” I say. “He can help us.”

 

Obi-Wan looks troubled at this. “Xanatos’ fate is unclear to me. I sense he has great struggles ahead of him.”

 

I wonder what the hell that’s supposed to mean. Jedi wisdom doesn’t seem to be good for much.

 

Suddenly, I think of Hana. In all this time we’ve spent running around the galaxy, I’ve managed to keep her from my mind. I suppose I was still in denial. But now it seems to have sunk in, finally.

 

Obi-Wan looks at me in concern. “Are you alright?”

 

“No,” I say honestly. “The Empire killed my girlfriend.”

 

“I’m sorry,” Obi-Wan says. “I’ve lost many friends to them as well.”

 

“We’re going to rescue Siri and the baby,” I say, determined now. “They won’t be able to stop us.”

 

What will happen after that, though? We’ll have to go into hiding. The Empire will be after us. And I can help look after the baby, and make sure my father doesn’t damage her the way he did me.

 

But now I’m getting ahead of myself. “How are we getting onto Coruscant?” I ask. “I assume we can’t just pretend to be tourists, or something?”

 

Obi-Wan gathers everyone together in the ship’s lounge to discuss this. Sandra seems to be mostly recovered by now, but Garen still looks terrible. He seems cheerful enough, though, and is eager to go up against the Empire.

 

“Alright,” Obi-Wan says. “Now entertaining ideas on how to get onto Coruscant unnoticed.”

 

“You mean you don’t have a plan?” I demand.

 

“Not yet,” he replies, seeming unperturbed by this.

 

Sandra clears her throat. “I have some contacts in the lower levels. I could get in touch with them, see if they can help us.”

 

“They can’t possibly be checking every ship that lands for fugitives, can they?” Garen asks. “Even if they used droids to do it, it would still be a massive undertaking.”

 

“We’re all going to have to hide in the Force once we reach the planet,” Obi-Wan says. “If Vader or the Emperor senses us, it’s over. That also means we’re going to have to avoid using the Force as much as possible.”

 

I don’t like the sound of this. What good are Jedi if they’re not using the Force? Still, Obi-Wan at least was a war hero. He probably knows what he’s doing.

 

“We could get some fake transponder codes for the ship, maybe?” Garania suggests. “If we pretend to be Imperials, maybe they won’t scrutinize us as closely.”

 

“Who’s going to believe this is an Imperial ship?” I ask. “It’s pretty clearly a pleasure yacht.”

 

“Oh, you’d be surprised what some of the higher-ranking officials fly,” Garen says. “It’s not all military-grade ships with them.”

 

“But who’d believe we were Imperials?” Bant asks. “Obi-Wan, Garen, Granta, and Sandra might pass alright if we get them disguises, but Garania and I might not be so lucky.”

 

“We can always hide you under Stormtrooper helmets,” I suggest.

 

“That’s not a bad idea,” Obi-Wan says.

 

“I’m not sure that would work for me,” Bant says.

 

I glance at her, considering. Stormtrooper armor might fit her alright, but her head is too large for a helmet meant for humans.

 

“We could say you’re our prisoner,” Sandra suggests.

 

“We could say she’s a rebel spy!” Garania says excitedly. “Aren’t there supposed to be a lot of Mon Calamari in the rebellion?”

 

“Yeah, but why would an Imperial officer have a rebel spy aboard his personal ship?” Garen points out.

 

“We could get another ship,” Bant offers. “Something military.”

 

“And how exactly are we supposed to do that?” I ask.

 

“Oh, you can get military ships if you know the right people, and are willing to pay the price,” Sandra says.

 

“And do you know the right people?” I inquire.

 

“Sure,” she replies. “It’s getting the funds that will be a problem. I for one don’t have any credits.”

 

“Me neither,” Garen says.

 

“We don’t have much,” Bant adds, speaking for herself and Garania.

 

“We could sell the ship,” Obi-Wan suggests.

 

“Hey!” I object. “This is _my_ ship, don’t forget.”

 

“And the Empire knows you have it,” Obi-Wan points out. “So you’re better off getting rid of it anyway.”

 

“We could get something _nice_ with the credits from this ship,” Sandra enthuses.

 

“We just need something that will get us onto Coruscant,” Obi-Wan says.

 

“I’ll contact some people,” Sandra declares.

* * *

With help from Sandra’s unsavory contacts, we manage to trade my ship for a small Corellian ship commonly used by the Empire. We also acquire a set of Imperial transponder codes, which allow us to enter Coruscant without raising suspicion.

 

Once we’re on the planet, Obi-Wan and the Jedi trace Siri’s location to a building in The Works. When we approach the building to surveil it, however, we find that it’s bristling with security.

 

“Vader’s not there,” Obi-Wan says, once we’re back at the abandoned building we’re using as a hideout. “But that doesn’t mean getting in will be easy.”

 

“How do you know Vader’s not there?” I ask.

 

“I didn’t sense him,” Obi-Wan replies.

 

More Force stuff, in other words. I roll my eyes.

 

“What we need to do is send somebody in to scope the place out,” Garen says. “Then they can come back and tell us what’s going on in there.”

 

“We could kill a couple Stormtroopers,” I suggest. “Take their armor, and go in that way.”

 

To my surprise, none of the Jedi have a better idea, so that’s what we do. Garen’s still in rough shape, so it’s Obi-Wan and Sandra who go in under the armor.

 

Garania argues that she should go. “I’m Faleen,” she says. “If we get caught, I can get us out of it with my pheromones, without needing to use the Force.”

 

“You’re fifteen,” I say, mildly scandalized. “You shouldn’t be seducing anybody.”

 

“Don’t be naive,” she retorts. “I did it plenty during the war.”

 

I shake my head. “I’m never going to understand Jedi,” I mutter.

 

Obi-Wan and Sandra return unscathed. They report that Siri and the baby are being held on one of the top floors, in locked rooms that are also under guard.

 

“That shouldn’t be any trouble for you guys, right?” I ask.

 

“The trouble is in getting us in, and getting Siri and the baby out again without the entire place being put into lockdown,” Obi-Wan says. “We need to get a better feel for how the place runs day-to-day.”

 

“How are we going to do that?”

 

“We need to send in an advance guard,” Obi-Wan replies.

 

“I’ll go,” Sandra offers immediately.

 

“No, it should be me,” Garen says. “It’s mostly human males in the Empire, you’ll stand out too much.”

 

“You’re in no shape to do it,” Sandra fires back.

 

“Hey, I’m feeling a lot better!” Garen protests.

 

“You were also a General,” Sandra says. “What if someone recognizes you from the wanted lists? I was an undercover operative. I should do it.”

 

“I agree,” Obi-Wan says. “And I think I have an idea for how we can get you in.”


	8. Major Minus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Star Wars Day!

_They got one eye watching you_

_One eye on what you do_

_So be careful who it is you’re talking to_

_They got one eye watching you_

_One eye on what you do_

_So be careful what it is you’re trying to do_

_-Coldplay_

* * *

 

(Siri)

 

My time in captivity stretches to one week, then two. Captain Welbri continues to visit occasionally, although he never has information about Xan. I’m kept confined to my rooms, but other than that and the Force inhibitor, I’m not treated like a prisoner.

 

One day the door opens, and instead of Welbri, it’s Xan. We stare at each other for a moment, then I rush into his arms.

 

“I’m sorry I couldn’t be here sooner,” he says. “Vader kept me away.”

 

“Never mind that,” I say. “Did Granta get away?”

 

Xan nods. “He did.”

 

I breath a sigh of relief. “Good.” Then I remember Hana. “Hana’s dead,” I tell him. “She died trying to save me.”

 

“I know,” Xan says. “Did she really try to take on Vader?”

 

I nod.

 

“That was foolish.”

 

“It was brave,” I insist. “Does Granta know she’s dead?”

 

Xan nodded. “I told him.”

 

So Xan’s been in touch with Granta, then. “How did he take it?”

 

“I only had about five minutes to talk,” Xan said. “I couldn’t afford to spend any of that time holding his hand.”

 

I shake my head. Knowing Xan and Granta’s relationship, I doubt Xan had had any kind words for his son.

 

I don’t want to nag at him, though, so I change the subject. “Come meet your daughter.”

 

I lead him into the bedroom, where he approaches the crib hesitantly. Xan looks down at the baby for a long moment.

 

“She has red hair,” he murmurs.

 

“I wonder whose side that comes from,” I say, coming up beside him.

 

“My mother had red hair,” Xan says, surprising me. He almost never talks about his family.

 

“I haven’t named her yet,” I tell him. “I was waiting for you.”

 

We discuss names for a bit. Finally we settle on Mara. Xan likes it because it’s a traditional Telosian name. I just think it sounds pretty.

 

“What are we going to do now?” I ask him.

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“Well, we have to get out of here,” I say.

 

“Don’t worry,” Xan says. “I have the situation under control.”

 

I press him, but he won’t say more, since it’s safe to assume we’re under surveillance.

 

I get Xan’s company for a few days before he’s called away again. I’m grateful that we got some time together, even as I resent Vader and the Empire for taking him away.

 

The day after Xan leaves, I get a message. It’s written on a small piece of ‘plast and hidden in my food; I don’t notice until it’s in my mouth. I spit it out and unfold it to see writing inside.

 

_Tell them you need someone to help you with the baby,_ it says. _We’re working on getting you out. -G_

 

It can only be from Granta. Was this what Xan meant when he said he has the situation under control? That Granta has a plan to rescue us? But how does this message factor in?

 

Still, the next time Captain Welbri visits, I broach the subject.

 

“I could use some help with the baby,” I say. “It’s exhausting on my own. She doesn’t really sleep through the night, and I’m tired all the time.” This is true enough. “Maybe you could get someone?”

 

“I can see to it that you’re provided with a nanny droid,” Welbri offers.

 

“No.” Granta had said _someone_.“I want a real person.”

 

“I’ll see what I can do,” he promises.

* * *

 

The next time he visits, Welbri informs me that he’s received permission to hire a nanny for me.

 

“Can I help with the process?” I ask hopefully.

 

“There’s no need to concern yourself,” he says. “We have it under control.”

 

A week after I’d asked him, Welbri introduces me to the nanny. I barely manage to control my reaction, but I must control it well enough, because he doesn’t seem to notice anything amiss.

 

When Welbri leaves us alone, I gape at Sandra in astonishment.

 

“What-“ I begin, but she shakes her head at me. Right. Surveillance. 

 

“Can I meet the baby?” Sandra asks.

 

“Of course,” I say. We have to keep up appearances, after all. “She’s sleeping right now.”

 

We go into the bedroom. Sandra glances around, then pulls a small device from her pocket.

 

“Okay,” she says, activating it. “This jams audio only, and I can only leave it on for a few minutes. I don’t want to make them suspicious of me.”

 

I’m so full of questions I don’t know where to start. “What’s the plan?”

 

“The plan is kind of still evolving,” she replies. “There’s a team of us working to get you out. I’m the advance guard.”

 

“And Granta’s okay?”

 

“He’s fine.”

 

“Is Xan working with you guys?”

 

“No,” she replies. “I don’t think Obi-Wan trusts him.”

 

_“Obi-Wan_ is here?” I ask, amazed.

 

Sandra nods. “This was his idea, in fact.”

 

“Why doesn’t Obi-Wan trust Xan?”

 

Sandra shrugs. “They have history, don’t they?”

 

This is true enough. It seems somehow petty for Obi-Wan to still be holding onto that, but I suppose I can’t expect everyone to see the good in Xan the way I do.

* * *

 

Sandra comes every day for a few hours. Although we can’t speak freely most of the time, it’s still nice to have someone else around. She helps look after Mara, allowing me to get some much-needed rest.

 

One day Xan comes back while Sandra’s there, and she kills the surveillance again so we can all have a talk.

 

“What’s the plan?” Xan demands once I’ve introduced them properly.

 

“We’re working on it,” Sandra says.

 

“How many of you are there?”

 

“Five Jedi, plus Granta.”

 

Xan nods. “I want to be involved. Maybe I can help.”

 

“We’re probably going to spring her when you’re not around,” Sandra admits. “Because we don’t want Vader to be here, either. The idea is to wait until you’re off somewhere with him.”

 

“But you have to get Xan out too!” I protest.

 

“Once the Empire doesn’t have you and Mara, it will be easy for him to escape,” Sandra says.

 

“But if they don’t have us, they’ll keep an even closer eye on him,” I argue.

 

“Look, rescuing Xanatos was never part of the plan,” Sandra says apologetically. “It’s you and the baby we’re concerned about.”

 

“Quite right, too,” Xan says. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.”

 

Once Sandra leaves for the day, Xan and I busy ourselves taking care of Mara.

 

“You should reach out to her with the Force,” I say. “Since I can’t.”

 

“She’s very strong with the Force,” Xan says. “She may start showing signs of it soon.”

 

I nod, though privately I think Mara might be a bit young for that. Force-sensitivity usually appears in babies around the age of six months to a year. That’s the age when most children are brought to the Temple.

 

“But you would love her even if she didn’t have the Force,” I question. “Wouldn’t you?”

 

“Of course,” he replies.

 

“So what was it that went wrong between you and Granta, then?”

 

Xan sighs. “It’s not that I don’t love him. I just wish he had a little more confidence in himself.”

 

“I think he might say that you’re the reason he doesn’t have confidence in himself,” I point out. “He thinks he’s a constant disappointment to you, because he doesn’t have the Force.”

 

Xan frowns. “That’s not true. Yes, I was disappointed that he wasn’t Force-sensitive. But there are plenty of beings in the galaxy who aren’t, and still go on to be perfectly successful.”

 

“Well, maybe you should tell him that,” I suggest. “He’d like to hear it, especially since I can’t imagine he’s in a good place right now.”

 

“Why not?”

 

“Because of Hana,” I say. “He really cared about her.”

 

Xan makes a noncommittal noise. He had never really approved of their relationship, which makes sense now that I know what Hana’s true line of work was. He probably disapproved of his son dating a mercenary. I, on the other hand, had just been glad to see Granta happy.

* * *

 

Xan doesn’t stay long before Vader summons him again. I try not to be discouraged, telling myself that I’ll be getting out of here soon.

 

He’s been gone for a few days when things finally happen.

 

When my door chimes, I don’t think much of it, assuming it’s Welbri. But when I open the door, I see three stormtroopers escorting a Mon Calamari prisoner. There's no sign of the 'troopers who usually guard my door. It only takes a moment for me to recognize the Mon Calamari as Bant. These must be my rescuers.

 

“Get in here, quick,” I say.

 

They do so. Bant removes the binders from her wrists, and the ‘stormtroopers’ take off their helmets. It’s Obi-Wan and Granta, plus a Faleen girl I don’t recognize.

 

“Took you guys long enough to get here,” Sandra says from behind me.

 

“It took longer than we thought to disable the surveillance systems,” Obi-Wan replies. “But it’s down for the whole building now.”

 

“And they haven’t gone into lockdown?” Sandra asks.

 

“Not yet,” Granta says. “We took care of the captain in charge of security, so they’re not sure what to do.”

 

“You didn’t kill him, did you?” I ask.

 

Granta frowns at me. “No, we stunned him. Why?”

 

“He was kind to me,” I reply.

 

“But he’s an Imperial,” the Faleen points out.

 

I sigh. I’d thought that way once, too. But Welbri and the doctor who’d delivered Mara had proven that Imperials aren’t all bad.

 

“Never mind that,” Obi-Wan says. “We need to move quickly.”

 

“Can one of you get this off?” I ask hopefully, gesturing to the inhibitor around my neck.

 

“Let me see,” Obi-Wan says.

 

He fiddles with it for a few minutes. I can’t see what he’s doing, but I’m pretty sure it involves using the Force to override the locking mechanism. Finally, he pulls it off, and I feel the Force come back. I sigh in relief.

 

“We need to go,” Granta urges.

 

“I’ll get Mara,” I say.

 

I go into the bedroom, where Mara’s sleeping. I wake her, and she begins to cry. I soothe her with the Force, which seems to work.

 

I’m aware of a presence behind me, and I turn to see Obi-Wan.

 

“I have something for you,” he says. Reaching into his pack, he pulls out a lightsaber and offers it to me.

 

My eyebrows shoot up. I haven’t used a lightsaber since leaving the Order more than ten years ago. Unlike Xan, I’d left mine behind in the Temple, which is what one is supposed to do. It’s a Jedi weapon, after all, and I’m not a Jedi any longer.

 

I try not to remember the expression on Adi’s face when I’d handed it over to her. I’d always thought she had no attachments, but that moment had proved that she at least had had an attachment to me.

 

“I’m awfully out of practice,” I say. “A blaster might serve me better.”

 

“We have those, too,” Obi-Wan replies. “But you might need this.”

 

I reach for the lightsaber- only to jerk my hand away in surprise when I make contact with it.

 

“Obi-Wan- this is _your Master’s lightsaber,”_ I say, having no doubt about the Force signature I’d sensed attached to the weapon. “I can’t accept this.”

 

“Please, take it,” Obi-Wan says. “He’d want you to have it.”

 

“What makes you think that?” I ask. I’d hardly known Master Jinn, after all. He and Adi had been colleagues, but not friends.

 

“I think he gave up hope that Xanatos could be redeemed,” Obi-Wan tells me. “But you never did. Qui-Gon would appreciate what you’ve done for him.”

 

He seems awfully certain, but he knew Qui-Gon much better than I did. I take the ‘saber. It’s meant for someone with larger hands, but I know I’ll be able to use it if it comes to that.

 

“Thank you,” I say.

 

I wrap Mara in some blankets- I don’t know what the weather’s like, and she hasn’t exactly been outside before- before returning to the main room with her in my arms.

 

“What’s the plan for getting out?” I ask.

 

“Bant and Garania have volunteered to create a diversion,” Obi-Wan explains. “They’ll draw off the guards, and our way will be cleared. Then we’ll all meet back at the ship.”

 

I turn to Bant. “You’re sure about this?”

 

“We can handle it,” she says. Next to her, Garania is nodding.

 

“Right,” Obi-Wan says, checking his chrono. “You two should probably-“ He breaks off, face growing pale.

 

“Obi-Wan? What is it?”

 

“Vader’s here,” Obi-Wan says tightly.

 

I frown. “I don’t sense anything.”

 

“He’s not nearby,” Obi-Wan replies. “But he’s on the planet.”

 

“How can you tell?” I ask.

 

“I’ve encountered him before,” Obi-Wan says.

 

Something occurs to me then. “Hey, if Vader’s here, I bet Xan’s with him. He’s probably on his way here now!”

 

“We don’t have time to wait for him,” Obi-Wan tells me. “We need to get moving.”

 

I want to protest, but I don’t feel like I can. They all came here to rescue Mara and I, after all, and Mara has to be my first priority. Xan can take care of himself.

 

Bant and Garania leave, armed with the explosive charges they’ll use to create the diversion. Once we hear it, we’ll know it’s time to move.

 

While we wait for them, I sidle up to Granta.

 

“Do you want to meet your sister?” I ask him.

 

He looks at Mara. “Hello, little one.”

 

Mara shakes a fist at him.

 

“I’m afraid that’s the best you’re going to get out of her,” I say. “Are you alright?”

 

“I’m fine,” he insists.

 

“I’m sorry about Hana,” I tell him. “I should have sent her with you. Then maybe things would have been different.”

 

“No, I shouldn’t have let her separate us,” Granta replies. “If I’d been there-“

 

“There was nothing you could have done,” I say. “Vader killed her himself.”

 

Before he can respond, we hear a large explosion from the other side of the building.

 

“That’s our cue,” Obi-Wan says. “Let’s move.”

 

Obi-Wan and Granta put their stormtrooper helmets back on, and we arrange ourselves as if they’re escorting Sandra and I. If asked, they’ll say they’re under orders to move us to a secure location. It’s doubtful anyone will buy that, but it’s worth a shot.

 

We exit the rooms where they’ve been keeping me and head down the hall. Bypassing the turbolift, we head for the stairs. It’s a longer route, but since most people use the lifts, we’re less likely to be stopped.

 

We’ve descended several flights when we run into trouble. A squad of ten stormtroopers appears on the stairs below us.

 

“Where are you taking these two?” the sergeant demands.

 

“Prisoner transfer,” Obi-Wan replies. “We’ve received orders to move them to a secure location.”

 

“Why wasn’t I informed?”

 

“I’m sure I don’t know,” Obi-Wan says. “But you _will_ let us pass.” I can feel him putting the Force behind the words.

 

The sergeant doesn’t fall for it, however. “What’s your operating number?” he asks, bringing up his blaster.

 

Everything happens at once after that. In the blink of an eye, Obi-Wan has his lightsaber out, cutting through the sergeant’s blaster rifle. Next to me, Sandra pulls out her lightsaber as well, and Granta opens fire with his blaster.

 

I hold Mara close and stay behind them. My instincts are screaming at me to transfer her to one arm and draw either the lightsaber or blaster I’ve been given, but the maternal drive to protect my child is stronger.

 

Soon Obi-Wan, Sandra, and Granta have dispatched the 'troopers, but we can hear running feet from the hallway they’d emerged from.

 

“Go,” Sandra says. “I’ll hold them off.”

 

“No,” I say, because the Force is whispering her fate to me. “You can’t.”

 

“I can and I will.” Sandra looks me straight in the eyes, and I know she’s felt it too. “Go on, get out of here.”

 

“Come on, Siri,” Obi-Wan urges me.

 

“But-“

 

Obi-Wan grabs my arm. “There’s no time to argue. We need to move.”

 

I let him lead me away down the stairs, sparing one last look back at Sandra. She’s standing in the doorway to the stairwell, lightsaber ablaze.

 

“She’ll be fine,” Granta says to me as we continue downwards. “She’s a Jedi.”

 

I shake my head, unwilling to tell him what I’d sensed. I hadn’t wanted anyone else to die for me. I suppose that was naive.

 

We’re still on the stairs when I feel Sandra pass into the Force. Tears spring into my eyes, but I make myself continue to move. When we reach the bottom of the stairs, we exit the stairwell into a hallway. It’s deserted for the moment, and we run along until Obi-Wan leads us out a side door onto street level.

 

I blink as the sun hits my eyes. I haven’t been outside in weeks.

 

“The ship is this way,” Obi-Wan says.

 

We head away from the building, moving at a run. Mara begins to cry, and I soothe her as best I can.

 

“Can’t you shut her up?” Granta asks.

 

“I’m trying!”

 

We head down some more stairs, going into the lower levels of the city. It’s a good place to hide- the lower levels are dangerous, but over here in the Works they’re less populated than in other areas of the city.

 

“How far to the ship?” I ask.

 

“Not far,” Obi-Wan says.

 

In a few more minutes, we reach a large warehouse that looks to be abandoned. Obi-Wan leads me inside, where a medium sized ship is parked. The ramp is down, and we hurry aboard.

 

“We made it!” Granta says.

 

“Not yet,” Obi-Wan replies. “We still have to get off the planet.”

 

Bant and Garania are waiting inside the shuttle, having gotten away cleanly. Obi-Wan nods when he sees them.

 

“Tell Garen to take off,” he says.

 

“What about Sandra?” Granta asks.

 

“She’s not coming,” Obi-Wan says.

 

Granta absorbs this silently, then heads for the ramp.

 

“What are you doing?” I ask.

 

“I’m staying here,” Granta says. “My father might need help getting away.”

 

“Xan can take care of himself,” I say. “What if the Empire captures you?”

 

“I won’t be the same caliber of hostage as you and the baby,” Granta responds. “And I don’t plan to be captured.”

 

“Granta, this is stupid,” I say desperately. “You have to come with us.”

 

“No, I don’t,” he replies.

 

With that, he strides down the ramp and off the ship.

 

I turn to Obi-Wan, feeling lost. “We can’t let him go!”

 

“We don’t have time to change his mind,” Obi-Wan replies.

 

Even as he says this, I can hear the ship’s engines starting up. The ramp begins to close, and we lift off into the air.

 

“We should strap in,” Obi-Wan says. “It could be a bumpy ride out of here.”

 

We head for the cockpit to join the others. Garen Muln is in the pilot’s seat, with Bant next to him. Garania’s strapped in behind them. Obi-Wan takes the gunner’s position next to Garania, leaving me to sit in the back row of seats, Mara in my arms.

 

We lift off. Once we hit the upper atmosphere, an Imperial comes over the comm, demanding to know our transponder codes. Garen gives them, and I hold my breath.

 

The codes must be good, because we’re allowed to join a long queue of ships waiting to leave Coruscant. Much as I wish we could just blast our way out, I know that isn’t an option. We’ll just have to hope that no one from Palpatine’s facility identified our ship.

 

“Hey, Siri,” Garen says, glancing back at me. “You alright?”

 

I blink at him, not sure how to answer. Even though I’d known I was going to be rescued, this still feels unreal. “I suppose,” I reply doubtfully. “I’ll be a lot better once we’re in hyperspace.”

 

“Yeah, I hear you. Still, so far the plan’s gone off better than I thought it would.”

 

I frown. “Sandra _died_ , Garen.”

 

“Yes, but she was the only one we lost,” Obi-Wan says.

 

The cockpit falls silent after that.

 

We continue to inch our way through traffic until finally we’re out of the atmosphere. Several large Star Destroyers are surrounding the planet; we’ll have to fly straight past them before we can make the jump to lightspeed.

 

No one hails us or starts shooting, however, and within minutes we’ve cleared the planet’s gravity well. Garen engages the hyperdrive, and the stars begin to streak by.

 

Garania lets out a cheer. “We made it!”

 

“Excuse me,” I say, unbuckling and retreating from the cockpit.

 

Obi-Wan follows me out. “How are you doing?” he asks.

 

“I’m- I don’t know,” I admit. “I have no idea what I’ll do now.”

 

“You can come stay with me,” Obi-Wan says. “Vader won’t find you there.”

 

“You have a place?”

 

He nods. “It’s not much, but you’re welcome to all I have.”

 

“What about the others?”

 

“It’s not safe to have a large group of Jedi together,” he replies. “More chance of being detected. They’ll go their separate ways.”

 

I look down at Mara. She’s sleeping fitfully. “I don’t suppose you’re set up for a baby?” I haven’t even brought so much as a clean diaper along, not wanting to be weighed down in case of a fight.

 

“Not exactly, but it shouldn’t be hard to procure what we need.”

 

I nod. “And Xan knows where to find you?”

 

“He does.”

 

“Alright, then,” I say. “I suppose I’ll stick with you. It shouldn’t be long, just until Xan can get away from the Empire.”

 

Obi-Wan nods. Through the Force, I get the distinct impression that there’s something he’s not saying. _Obi-Wan doesn’t trust Xan,_ I remind myself, remembering Sandra’s words. But I know Xan better than Obi-Wan does. I know he’ll come for me.


	9. Deadlines and Commitments

_If you should fall upon hard times_

_If you should lose your way_

_There is a place_

_Here in this house_

_That you can stay_

_-The Killers_

* * *

 

(Siri)

 

We say goodbye to Garen, Bant, and Garania when we reach Tatooine. They’re staying together for now, despite the increased risk. They drop Obi-Wan, Mara, and I off in Bestine, where we do some shopping for baby supplies. Nothing available is particularly high-quality, but it will do.

 

I pay for everything out of one of Xanatos’ accounts. It’s one he keeps with the Hutts, rather than in any legal sort of bank, so I’m hoping the Empire doesn’t have a trace on it.

 

Once the shopping is done, we rent a speeder for the drive out to Obi-Wan’s house. He tells me it’s in the middle of nowhere, and he’s not kidding. His house is perched on a rise, far away from anything approaching civilization.

 

“I’m sure it’s not what you’re used to,” Obi-Wan says once we’re inside.

 

I look around. We’re in what looks like a combination living/dining area, except there’s also a bed in an alcove off one wall. A few stairs lead up to the kitchen area, and in the very back there’s an enclosed room which I assume is the ‘fresher.

 

It’s worlds away from the house I’d shared with Xan on Prynnash, but I’d always held the opinion that that house was far too large. Obi-Wan’s house seems suitable enough for one person, but I’m not sure how it’s going to work with the two of us and a baby.

 

Then again, I’m not going to be here long.

 

“It’s fine,” I assure him.

 

“It’s actually bigger than it looks,” Obi-Wan tells me. “There’s a cellar, too.”

 

Mara begins to cry then, breaking the awkward moment. “I should feed her,” I say.

 

“I’ll get the crib set up, so you can put her down,” Obi-Wan replies.

* * *

So I settle into Obi-Wan’s house. He insists that I take the bed, relegating himself to a pallet in the cellar. I spend most of my time taking care of Mara. Obi-Wan has his own chores to keep him occupied. I offer to help out, but he won’t hear of it.

 

I do insist on pitching in for food and water, once I realize Obi-Wan doesn’t have enough of these to share. His life here isn’t easy, and Tatooine is a harsh world to survive on.

 

“Why settle here?” I ask him. “Surely there are nicer planets far from the Empire.”

 

“Oh, it’s not so bad, really,” he replies. “And…” He hesitates. “Let’s just say I have my reasons for being here.”

 

“You must have been lonely, though, before we came,” I say. “Living out in the middle of nowhere like this.”

 

“I wasn’t entirely on my own,” he says. “This may sound insane, but I had some company from time to time. Qui-Gon comes to see me.”

 

I blink at him, wondering if he’s lost it. “Um, Obi-Wan? Qui-Gon’s dead.”

 

“Yes,” he nods. “He is. But it turns out that not every Jedi becomes one with the Force upon dying. Qui-Gon has learned to preserve his consciousness after death, and so he can appear to the living.”

 

I glance around the room, but I don’t see anything.

 

Obi-Wan smiles. “He’s not here now. He comes and goes. When he next appears, I’ll let you know. I don’t know if you’ll be able to see him, however. Apparently it’s a learned skill.”

 

A few days later, Obi-Wan keeps his word. We’re eating dinner when he smiles suddenly.

 

“Qui-Gon is here,” he tells me.

 

I look around. “I don’t see him.”

 

“You’re only looking with your eyes,” Obi-Wan says. “Reach out with the Force, and it will show you the truth.”

 

I do as he says, frowning in concentration. I sense something, but it’s vague. I close my eyes, focusing on the sensation. I let myself drift into the Force, entering a light meditative state. Now I sense something more concrete, a familiar presence that I recognize as Qui-Gon Jinn.

 

I open my eyes, and there he is, translucent and shimmering.

 

“By the Force,” I say. “Obi-Wan was right.”

 

Master Jinn smiles at me. “Did you doubt him?”

 

I had, a little. “Um,” I say.

 

Qui-Gon laughs. “It’s alright. I’m not sure I would have believed him either, had I been in your position.”

 

“How are you here?”

 

“There is no death,” he replies. “There is the Force.”

 

“Well, yeah, but…” I trail off. 

 

Qui-Gon smiles. “It’s strange, I know.”

 

“So… what have you been doing, since you died?”

 

“I’ve been keeping an eye on things,” he replies. “I saw what you did for Xanatos.”

 

I can feel myself blushing. “I only did what I thought was right,” I mumble.

 

“You kept him from the darkness. That is more than I could do.”

 

“It’s what I was meant to do,” I say.

 

“I worry for him now,” Qui-Gon says. “His work for Vader leads him ever closer to the dark side.”

 

“He won’t have to do it anymore,” I reply. “Now that the Empire doesn’t have us as hostages, he’ll be able to make his escape.”

 

Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan exchange a look.

 

“What?” I ask. “What aren’t you telling me?”

 

“We both sense that Xanatos has a difficult path ahead of him,” Qui-Gon says. “I do not think your work is done.”

 

I frown. “He doesn’t want to kill Jedi,” I say. “He only did it because Vader gave him no choice. He’ll stop of his own accord, now.”

 

“I hope you’re right,” Qui-Gon says.

 

“Obi-Wan gave me your lightsaber,” I tell him, changing the subject. “I wasn’t sure if I should take it.”

 

“He gave it to you at my request,” Qui-Gon replies.

 

“But I’m not a Jedi anymore.”

 

“True, you left the Order,” he says. “But you still follow the will of the Force. That is what makes you a Jedi.”

 

I’m not sure what to make of this. I’ve almost made my peace with the fact that I am no longer a Jedi. But there are so few of us left now. It’s very tempting to take up that mantle once more.

 

“I guess you’re right,” I say finally.

 

Qui-Gon gives me a knowing look. “Perhaps you should meditate on the idea.”

 

I manage not to make a face. “Maybe I’ll do that.”

* * *

Days turn into weeks, and still there’s no sign of Xan. I grow worried. What can be taking him so long?

 

There’s no word from Granta, either. I worry that he’s been captured, that the Empire once again has a hostage to leverage against Xan.

 

Finally, I hear from him. To my dismay, he reports that Xan is no longer on Coruscant.

 

“I suppose he has no reason to be, now that you and the baby are safe,” he tells me. “But it wouldn’t surprise me if Vader has him on a pretty tight leash. He probably just hasn’t been able to slip away yet.”

 

“That’s probably it,” I agree. 

 

“I’m trying to track him down,” Granta says. “Once I find out where he is I’ll go see if I can catch him alone. Then hopefully we can come and get you.”

 

“Be careful,” I admonish. “Don’t let the Empire catch you.”

 

“I wouldn’t be much good as a hostage.”

 

I frown. “Don’t say that. Xan loves you.”

 

“Does he.” Granta sounds supremely unconvinced. “Well. I’ll be in touch.”

 

It’s a few days before I hear from Granta again. When I do, I don’t want to believe what I’m hearing.

 

“I found him,” Granta tells me. “I tried to get him to come with me, but he wouldn’t.”

 

I frown. “What do you mean?”

 

“I told him there was no reason to stay with the Empire. I told him you and the baby needed him. But… he wouldn’t listen.”

 

“What did he say?”

 

“He just told me to get out of there. He said it wouldn’t do him any good if I got captured.”

 

“But…” I’m at a loss for words. “He didn’t say anything about me? Or Mara?”

 

“I’m sorry,” Granta says.

 

This doesn’t make sense. Why would Xan choose to stay with the Empire? I remember what Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon had said, about Xan having a hard path ahead of him. Is this what they meant?

 

“I’m not giving up, though,” Granta continues. “I won’t let him abandon you and the baby.”

 

I want to protest, to say that Xan would never abandon us. But isn’t that in essence what he’s doing, if he’s choosing to stay with the Empire of his own free will?

 

“What about Offworld?” I ask. “Is he still running the company?”

 

“No,” Granta says. “The Empire has seized control.”

 

“That must be difficult for him.” Xanatos has dedicated his life to building Offworld.

 

“I don’t really care,” Granta replies.

 

“Don’t you?” I ask. Granta has also spent his entire life working for the company.

 

“No,” he says. “Some things are more important. Besides, it’s not like we could ever have gone back to Prynnash.”

 

“You’re right, of course,” I tell him. “Look, Granta, you don’t have to keep running after Xan. It’s not your responsibility.”

 

“I want to do this,” he insists. “He isn’t allowed to duck out of his responsibilities. Not this time.”

 

“Just promise me you’ll be careful.”

 

“I will,” Granta says.

* * *

Later that day, I relay to Obi-Wan what Granta told me.

 

“I was afraid something like this might happen,” Obi-Wan says.

 

“Xan will leave the Empire eventually,” I insist. “He’ll have to.”

 

“That’s what you believe. What does the Force tell you?” Obi-Wan asks.

 

“It’s not telling me anything.”

 

“I think it probably is,” he says. “I think you just aren’t listening. Maybe you should meditate on it.”

 

“You really are a Jedi Master,” I grouse.

 

Still, there’s nothing much for me to do on Tatooine, so after I next put Mara down for a nap, I settle into lotus position and begin to meditate. It’s slow going, at first- I haven’t done this very often since leaving the Order. But in time I feel the currents of the Force, and allow them to sweep me away.

 

I focus my thoughts on Xan. Suddenly, a barrage of images hit me. I see Xan, kneeling before Vader. I see him and I, together once more with Mara on a ship of some kind. I see him leaning over Granta, who lies very, very still.

 

Am I seeing the future? Even if I am, I know that it’s likely that one or all of these visions will never come to pass. _Always in motion is the future,_ Yoda had always said.

 

I focus on the first image, the one of Xan kneeling to Vader. It feels more real than the others somehow, as though it’s more likely to come true. And that’s when I know: Xan isn’t going to leave the Empire. Not without a push. Granta’s already tried to convince him, and it didn’t work.

 

When I surface from meditation, I know what I have to do. I open my eyes to see Qui-Gon in front of me.

 

“I don’t suppose you could talk to Xan?” I ask him hopefully.

 

“I’ve tried,” Qui-Gon replies. “He does not hear me.”

 

I nod, unsurprised. Even if Xan could hear Qui-Gon, his Master’s ghost isn’t likely to convince him.

 

“I have to go to him,” I say. “Don’t I?”

 

Qui-Gon nods. “I believe you are the only one who can convince him to leave the Empire.”

 

I sigh. At least it will get me out of Obi-Wan’s hair.

 

When Obi-Wan reappears, I tell him what I’ve figured out. He doesn’t seem pleased.

 

“Siri, if you go to him you’ll be risking your life,” he tells me. “At the very least, you’ll risk being captured again. And what about Mara?”

 

“I’ll leave her with Granta,” I say. “With strict orders to leave me behind if they must.”  


 

“And you think Granta will listen?”

 

“If it’s a choice between my safety and Mara’s, he’ll choose her.”

 

“I hope you’re right,” Obi-Wan says.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know that in Clone Wars it says that Qui-Gon can’t physically manifest as a Force ghost, and is only a disembodied voice. I’ve chosen to ignore this detail.


	10. Don't You Remember

_Oh I gave you the space so you could breathe_

_I kept my distance so you would be free_

_In hope that you find the missing piece_

_To bring you back to me_

 

_Why don’t you remember, don’t you remember?_

_The reason you loved me before_

_Baby please remember me once more_

_When will I see you again?_

_-Adele_

* * *

(Siri)

 

I contact Granta and tell him to come to Tatooine to pick us up. He arrives at Obi-Wan’s house a few days later in a rented speeder.

 

“Are you sure about this?” he asks me after we've greeted each other.

 

“Yes,” I tell him. “Now come and help me with the supplies.”

 

I don’t have many belongings, but Mara’s things fill several crates. 

 

“Does she really need this much stuff?” Granta asks as we lug everything outside with Obi-Wan’s help.

 

“She’s a baby,” I reply. “She needs diapers, clothes, toys, a crib…”

 

“Okay, okay,” Granta allows.

 

Once we have the speeder loaded, I bring Mara outside. Handing her over to Granta, I turn to embrace Obi-Wan.

 

“Thank you so much,” I tell him. “For everything.”

 

“Assuming your plan works,” Obi-Wan says. “Where will you go?”

 

Truthfully, I haven’t really thought that far ahead. “I’ll have to talk to Xan about it,” I say. “But I guess we might do the same as you- find a quiet, out of the way world to settle down on. Or maybe we'll keep moving, make it harder for the Empire to find us.”

 

“There’s another option,” Obi-Wan tells me. “The Rebellion.”

 

I’ve heard rumors of a rebellion against the Empire, but I hadn’t known whether or not to believe them.

 

“You know how to get in contact with them?” I ask.

 

He nods. “They’d be glad to have you, and they could keep you safe from the Empire.”

 

“I don’t know how Xan would feel about joining the Rebellion,” I say.

 

“Well, if you do decide to take that route, go and see Bail Organa on Alderaan. Tell him I sent you.”

 

“I’ll keep that in mind. Thanks again.”

 

“May the Force be with you, Siri,” he says.

 

“And with you,” I reply.

 

Granta and I take our leave, heading for Bestine where his ship is docked.

 

“So, do you actually have a plan?” he asks me as we drive.

 

“I just need to talk to him,” I say, Mara fussing in my lap. “I know I can convince him to leave the Empire.”

 

“And what if they catch you?”

 

“That’s why I’m leaving Mara with you,” I tell him. “If I should get captured, at least they won’t have you two.”

 

Granta sighs. “Please try not to be? I don’t want to have to come rescue you again.”

 

“I wouldn’t ask that of you. If the Empire captures me, it will be your responsibility to take Mara and go into hiding.”

 

“It had better not come to that,” Granta says.

 

“I don’t think it will. I should be able to convince Xan to come back to us.”

 

“And then what?”

 

“Then we’ll have to go somewhere the Empire won’t find us. I doubt they’ll stop looking, especially since they know we have a Force-sensitive child.”

 

“You think they’d do something to Mara?”

 

“Vader already threatened to take her away from me, if I didn’t cooperate.”

 

“To kill her?”

 

I shake my head. “I don’t think that's what he had in mind.”

* * *

After a couple hours of driving through the sweltering desert, we reach Granta’s ship. It’s is a different, much smaller ship than the pleasure yacht he’d had on Prynnash. Granta knows where Xan ought to be, so we set a course for the Fadden system.

 

Granta is nervous about going there, and after the ship is in hyperspace, he tells me so. “It’s in the Inner Rim,” he says. “That’s awfully close to the Core.”

 

“If all goes well, we’ll be in and out in no time,” I assure him.

 

“And you don’t have a plan?”

 

“We find out where he’s staying, and I go in and talk to him.”

 

“That might be difficult,” Granta says. “Ever since we rescued you, he’s been staying in Imperial facilities.”

 

I purse my lips. “I’ll catch him alone during the day, then.”

 

“That might not be easy either. When I saw him before, he had a squadron of stormtroopers with him. He said he’d been placed in command of them, but I wouldn’t be surprised if they were keeping tabs on him for Vader.”

 

“How did you manage to talk to him, then?”

 

“I disguised myself,” Granta replies. “And then I followed him until he went into a bar and left the ‘troopers outside.”

 

“Maybe I can break into the Imperial compound, then,” I muse. “If I do some recon beforehand, and go in at night… I can probably manage it.”

 

“That sounds like a colossally stupid idea.”

 

“Well, unless you have a better one, it’s all we’ve got,” I tell him.

* * *

Fadden is a hot, humid world mostly covered in jungle. The Imperial Complex is in the capital city of Plofross, so that’s where we land.

 

“Right, I’m going to go scope out the Imperial Complex,” I tell Granta once we’ve landed and paid the port fees. “You stay here with Mara.”

 

“Uh… I don’t know anything about babies,” Granta admits. “What do I do if she starts crying?”

 

“I fed her and burped her, and she has a clean diaper. If she cries, check and see if she’s wet. If so, change her. If not, try rocking her in your arms.”

 

“I’ve never changed a diaper,” he says.

 

“Just clean her off with the wipes in the diaper bag. Wipe front to back. Then put a new diaper on. There’s instructions on the package for how to do that.”

 

Granta looks slightly overwhelmed, but he nods. “I’ll do my best.”

 

“I’ll probably only be gone for an hour or two,” I tell him. “You’ll do fine.”

 

The Imperial Complex is less than a mile from the port, but it’s not long before I’m sweating from the heat and humidity. It’s not as hot as Tatooine, thankfully but the humidity makes the heat less bearable. I’m still used to the temperate climate of Prynnash with its cool sea breeze. I’m also out of shape, not yet having lost all of the weight I put on while pregnant. Obi-Wan and I had trained some on Tatooine, doing katas and simple duels with our lightsabers. I’m woefully out of practice, however, and he’s very good, so we weren’t evenly matched. He’d offered me advice a few times, as a Master might advise their Padawan, but he’d seemed reluctant to fully step into that role. At the time I thought that it was odd for him because we’re agemates, but now I wonder if it was something else. Obi-Wan told me that Anakin had died when Order 66 was issued; maybe it had brought back too many memories.

 

My thoughts are interrupted then, because I’ve arrived at my destination. The Imperial Complex is, frankly speaking, ugly. It’s all duracrete and durasteel; whoever designed the buildings hadn’t even tried to make them resemble the other buildings in the area, which are built of native materials and much more stylized. A high wall surrounds the complex, topped with three layers of red plasma beams. The entrance is guarded by several stormtroopers, and I see more patrolling along the top of the wall.

 

I walk all the way around the complex, trying to scope out any weak points. I can’t find any obvious ones. How am I going to get in? My first thought is to mind-trick the guards at the entrance gate, but I soon dismiss this strategy. It’s very difficult to mind-trick an entire group of people, and although I could just mind-trick the ‘trooper in charge, there’s always a chance one of the others would sound the alarm.

 

Another option is to go over the wall. With the plasma beams on top, climbing it is out of the question. I’d have to use the Force to jump it, but I’ve never tried to jump that high. I would need practice; if I hit the plasma beams it will be like being cut into by three lightsabers at once.

 

Or… I could go in from above. If I had a jetpack, the wall would be no obstacle. Jetpacks are noisy, but if I approach at a high altitude, I can turn off the jetpack when I’m above the complex and use the Force to slow my descent as I drop down.

 

Lacking any other ideas, I decide to go with the third option. After some walking around I find the city’s marketplace, which is full of vendors selling a variety of wares. None of them have jetpacks, but when I ask at a stall selling holdout blasters, I’m directed to a small shop three streets over.

 

This shop sells arms and armor of all kinds. When I consult the proprietor, a Nikto, I’m informed that jetpacks are illegal on Fadden. Restraining a sigh, I slide him fifty credits.

 

“How about now?” I ask him.

 

The Nikto continues to scowl at me, but he obligingly takes me into the back room and shows me his stock. He has one jetpack, which looks as if it has seen better days. It will have to do, though. I pay his exorbitant price and walk out of the shop with the jetpack hidden under my cloak.

 

When I return to the ship, I hear Mara wailing. Heading into the sleeping quarters, I find Granta rocking her.

 

“She won’t stop crying,” he tells me. “I tried everything you said.”

 

“Let me take her.” Granta hands her over. I bounce her in my arms a few times, and she settles down.

 

“Oh, that is not fair,” Granta complains. “I don’t think she likes me.”

 

“She’s just not used to you yet,” I tell him.

 

“Did you find a way into the complex?”

 

“More or less,” I say, proceeding to explain my plan.

 

“You’re mad,” Granta declares. “A jetpack? Seriously?”

 

“Well, if you’ve a better idea, let’s hear it.”

 

Granta just shakes his head wordlessly.

* * *

Late that night, I return to Imperial Complex. Watching from the shadows across the street, I see the guards change shifts. I wait until the new shift has had time to settle in, then head about half a klick away. I find a quiet alley and ignite the jetpack, which sends me soaring into the air.

 

I gain altitude until I’m sure I can’t be heard from the ground, then fly back towards the complex. Once I’m directly over the main building, I cut the thrusters. Using the Force, I slow my rate of descent until I land lightly on the building’s roof.

 

I wait silently for a full minute. Once I’m sure no one is about to sound the alarm, I head to the roof access door and enter the building.

 

The halls are dark as I creep along silently. I use the Force to sense- and avoid- the patrolling guards. I don’t know where the living quarters are, but that’s no obstacle. I can sense Xan’s location in the building perfectly.

 

After several minutes I reach what must be his room. The door is locked, but a quick application of the Force allows me to override the mechanism and slip inside.

 

I don’t even have time to look around before Xan has his lightsaber out and pointed straight at me.

 

“Easy,” I say quietly. “It’s just me.”

 

Xan shuts off his ‘saber. “Siri? What are you doing here?”

 

“I came to see you.”

 

“You shouldn’t be here! You’re supposed to be safe on Tatooine.”

 

“You wouldn’t listen to Granta, so I had to come myself.”

 

“You shouldn’t have taken such a risk,” Xan says.

 

“I wouldn’t have had to if you had just come and gotten us like you were supposed to!” I say. “Honestly, Xan, what are you _thinking,_ staying with the Empire?”

 

“That’s none of your concern.”

 

“Like hell it isn’t! You’re my husband, in case you’ve forgotten.”

 

He’s silent for a moment. “Now is not the time for me to leave the Empire.”

 

“Have they found something else to hold over you?” I ask. “Are they threatening you?”

 

“It’s not that,” he says.

 

“What, then?”

 

Xan doesn’t respond, but he doesn’t have to. A horrible suspicion is creeping up on me.

 

“Did Vader promise to teach you the ways of the Dark Side?” I ask him.

 

“Siri…”

 

“He did, didn’t he?” I demand. “Xan, he’s using you! It’s not you he wants, not really.”

 

“What does he want, then?”

 

“I think he wants Mara,” I tell him. “She’s strong with the Force; he or Palpatine could train her up to be whatever they wanted.”

 

“I would never let them have her,” Xan says vehemently. “Siri, listen to me. If I can learn from Vader, I’ll know how to keep us safe from him. Then I’ll leave the Empire, and we can go into hiding like you wanted.”

 

“Xan…” I shake my head. “It’s too dangerous. You need to come with me now.”

 

“No, not yet,” he insists.

 

So that’s it, then. Xan is sure his way is best, and he won’t listen to reason. But I know he can’t simply dabble in the Dark Side. If he accepts Vader’s tutelage, I’ll lose him forever.

 

“Fine,” I say, defeated. “Have it your way.”

 

“Siri, I will come back to you, I promise,” he says.

 

I smile sadly. “I believe that you believe that.”

 

“I will,” Xan insists.

 

“I should get out of here,” I say. “You’re right, it’s not safe.”

 

“You need to get far away from this world,” he tells me. “I’ll contact you when I can.”

 

“Of course,” I agree. Truthfully I intend to do no such thing, but there’s no use telling him that. “I love you, Xan.”

 

“Be safe,” he says.

* * *

I sneak out of the complex much the same way I’d snuck in. The only moment of danger comes when I’m once again on the roof of the building. This time there will be no hiding the sound of the jetpack. I get into position and quickly engage the thrusters. I hear shouts from the guards as I rocket into the air. One enterprising ‘trooper even attempts to shoot me down, but the shots go wide.

 

When I return to the ship, I find Granta waiting up for me. His face falls when he sees that I’m alone.

 

“He didn’t listen to you?”

 

“He has some fool idea that he can learn the ways of the Dark Side from Vader, and that it will help us hide from him,” I say, shaking my head.

 

“Would that work?”

 

“No,” I reply. “If he takes that route, he’ll never come back to us.”

 

“Well, then, what can we do?” Granta asks. “If you couldn’t convince him to come back, I don’t see what other options there are.”

 

“There’s one more thing I can try,” I tell him.

 

“What’s that?”

 

“I’m going to force his hand,” I say.

 

“How so?”

 

“I don’t think I should tell you,” I admit. “You’ll only try to stop me.”

 

“That good, huh?” Granta asks.

 

“I’m desperate,” I say.

 

“Siri… I don’t want you to put yourself in danger. Mara needs you.”

 

“She has you.”

 

“I think we’ve established that I’m not very good with her,” Granta says wryly.

 

“But if something happened to me, and Xan was lost, you’d take care of her, wouldn’t you?”

 

“Of course,” he sighs. “I just really hope it doesn’t come to that.”

 

“I do, too,” I agree.

* * *

When I leave Granta the next morning, it’s with very specific instructions.

 

“One hour,” I tell him. “You wait one standard hour, and if I’m not back, you take the ship and you leave.”

 

“Siri, I don’t like this,” he protests. “I don’t want to leave you behind.”

 

“If I’m not back in an hour, you must assume I’ve been killed or captured,” I tell him sternly. “We can’t let the Empire have Mara. She has to be our first priority. Understood?”

 

Granta reluctantly agrees, and I take my leave.

 

I can sense that Xan is on the move, and it’s not hard for me to locate him. When I find him, he’s walking down the street with a squad of stormtroopers trailing him. The street is crowded with beings, all of whom scurry out of the way when they see Xan and his escort approaching.

 

I plant myself directly in their path. When the crowd around me draws away from Xan and the stormtroopers, I don’t move.

 

Xan spots me, of course. He holds up his hand, and the ‘troopers halt.

 

I take a deep breath, centering myself in the Force. “My name is Siri Omega,” I say loudly, igniting Qui-Gon’s lightsaber. “And I am a Jedi.”

 

The stormtroopers open fire. Xan yells at them to stop, but they don’t listen. I use my lightsaber to deflect the blaster bolts back at them, but there’s ten of them and one of me, and I’m out of practice. If this doesn’t go the way I’m hoping, there’s a good chance I won’t live much longer.

 

Xan ignites his own lightsaber, his eyes locked with mine. The moment seems to stretch out between us as I wait to see what he’s going to do.

 

Then Xan turns and begins slaughtering his stormtroopers. They forget about me in order to focus on this more immediate threat, which is a mistake on their part. I move in closer and help Xan finish them off.

 

Once they’re all dead Xan gives me a long look before deactivating his lightsaber. “Damn you,” he says.

 

“Will you come back to us now?” I ask, shutting down my own ‘saber.

 

“You’ve given me no choice,” he bites out.

 

“You did have a choice,” I reply. “You could have killed me.”

 

He shakes his head. “I could never do that.”

 

I smile. “Then you must know where you belong.”

 

Xan nods. “I suppose I do.”

 

We’re interrupted then by the sound of distant sirens. Someone’s obviously called this in.

 

“We should go,” I say.

 

“I assume you have a ship?”

 

I nod. “It’s not far from here.”

 

We take off running. The street is empty now, all bystanders having fled when the shooting started. Before long we make it back to the spaceport. From the outside it looks calm, but once we reach the ship we find it surrounded by stormtroopers.

 

Xan and I duck out of sight to confer.

 

“There’s nothing for it,” I say. “We’re just going to have to go through them.”

 

“It only looks like two squads, anyway,” Xan says. “We should be able to handle it.”

 

I’m less optimistic, but we don’t exactly have a lot of options. “I don’t suppose you have a thermal detonator or something?” I ask hopefully.

 

“That would be helpful, wouldn’t it?”

 

I can’t help but grin. The situation may be dire, but I don’t care. I have Xan back, and together, we can do anything.

 

“Okay, on three,” I say. “One, two…”

 

We spring out of cover, lightsabers blazing. The ‘troopers target us at once. Xan and I take out the ones directly in front of us, then stand back-to-back in order to deal with the others.

 

Granta must have figured out what’s going on, because I hear the ship’s engines start up. He’ll be ready to take off as soon as we’re aboard.

 

We’ve gotten about halfway through the stormtroopers when I hear the ship’s landing ramp open. I pay it little mind, assuming that Granta is still safe in the cockpit. Then one of the ‘troopers falls dead from a blaster bolt.

 

I glance towards the ship to see Granta standing on the landing ramp with a blaster, doing his best to help us.

 

“Get back on board!” Xan yells at him, but Granta doesn’t listen. He keeps shooting, attracting the attention of several of the remaining ‘troopers.

 

I do my best to kill the ones targeting Granta, but it’s not enough. I hear him cry out.

 

“Granta!” Xan yells. I spare a quick look to see that Granta has fallen. Xan runs to him as I finish off the few stormtroopers who are left standing. Once they’re dead, I run onto the ship.

 

Xan has dragged Granta up onto the floor next to the ramp. Granta looks to be bleeding badly, but there’s no time for me to stop and help. I close the landing ramp and head for the cockpit. It’s time for us to get out of here.


	11. What's Left of the Flag

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See end notes for a warning that’s a spoiler for the chapter.

_His eyes they closed_

_And his last breath spoke_

_He had seen all to be seen_

_A life once full, now an empty vase_

_Wilt the blossoms on his early grave_

_-Flogging Molly_

* * *

 

(Xanatos)

 

I kneel over Granta, my hand plastered against his wound. He’s been shot in the stomach, and is bleeding profusely. I bring the Force to bear, focusing the energy on his wound, and the bleeding eases slightly. I frown. I’d done well enough with Force Healing when I was a Padawan, but I’d never had to heal anything this complicated. Still, the basic theory should be the same.

 

Granta’s mumbling something, trying to get my attention. “Shut up,” I tell him. “I need to focus.” The bleeding has increased again. I apply the Force to the wound, but the blood continues to flow.

 

“Father,” Granta says firmly. “It’s alright.”

 

“No.” I shake my head. “I won’t let you die.”

 

“There’s nothing you can do.”

 

“Yes, there is,” I insist. “If I can just use the Force-“

 

“Enough,” he rasps. “Look at me.”

 

I look up from Granta’s wound. His face is colorless from blood loss.

 

“It’s okay,” he continues. “I’m not afraid to die.”

 

“You’re not going to die!” I snap. “You can’t.”

 

“There’s nothing you can do,” Granta tells me. “I need you to promise me something. You have to do right by Mara. Let her know you love her. Be understanding when she fails. Just… do better this time, Father.”

 

“I will,” I say. Panic is beginning to sink in now. I try another bit of Force Healing, but it has no effect.

 

“Father?” Granta’s voice has grown faint, and I have to lean in to hear him over the sound of the ship’s engines. “Do you love me?”

 

“Of course, Granta,” I say, swallowing down the lump in my throat. “Of course I do.” How can he not know that?

 

Granta smiles. “That’s… good to know,” he manages.

 

I know that he’s dead when I feel him pass into the Force, but it doesn’t sink in. “Granta?” I shake him. “Granta!”

 

In the back of my mind I’m aware of the sound of the hyperdrive kicking in, but I pay it no mind. I’m too busy staring down at Granta’s motionless form in disbelief.

 

A few moments later, I sense Siri’s presence. She kneels next to me, staring down at Granta.

 

“Are you alright?” she asks gently.

 

I shake my head wordlessly, unable to think of a single thing to say.

 

Siri and I sit there for what feels like a long time. My mind is numb, and I’m unable to think clearly. I keep telling myself that Granta is gone, but it refuses to sink in. How can he be gone? Granta’s been a presence in my life for more than thirty years. I wasn’t supposed to outlive him. I don’t understand how this can possibly have happened.

 

A shrill wail cuts through my muddled thoughts, and I wince.

 

“Can’t you shut her up?” I demand.

 

“Of course,” Siri says quietly. She stands and goes to tend to the baby.

 

When she returns a few minutes later, her eyes are red-rimmed and wet.

 

“Were you crying?” I ask mockingly.

 

“Granta was my friend!” she replies, wounded.

 

“And he was _my son!”_ I exclaim. “My son…” I repeat quietly.

 

Suddenly I’m angry. “What was he thinking, coming out of the ship like that? He should have known better! This is his own fault. He should have left the stormtroopers to us. He’s never been good in a fight. He doesn’t have the stomach for it.”

 

“Xan, calm down,” Siri says.

 

“I am calm!” I yell. Rage fills me, and I have to let it out somehow. There are several crates stacked against the opposing wall, and I shove at them with the Force until they topple over.

 

The wailing starts up again, and I yell in frustration. “I thought you’d handled her!”

 

“She’s crying because of you!” Siri exclaims. “She can sense your distress, and it’s scaring her!”

 

This reaches me, and I remember my promise to Granta. “I have to do better this time,” I mumble to myself.

 

I stride from the room, following the sound of crying. I find Mara in a crib in one of the bunkrooms. I approach and look down at her, aware of Siri hovering behind me.

 

“What should I do?” I ask. “To comfort her?”

 

“Calm yourself,” Siri says. “Find your center.”

 

I struggle to do so. I can’t quite center myself properly, but I do feel my anger slip away as quickly as it had come.

 

“Better,” Siri says. “Now pick her up and rock her slowly.”

 

I do so, staring down at Mara’s tiny face. I’d never seen Granta as a baby. By the time I’d left the Order and seen him for the first time, he had been two years old. I don’t recall ever even seeing holos of what he looked like as an infant.

 

“Try and soothe her with the Force,” Siri suggests.

 

I reach out to Mara, projecting calm at her. I catch a glimpse of her emotions, enough to know that she’s afraid. Siri had been right.

 

“Shh,” I say softly. “It’s alright, little one. Nothing’s going to happen to you. I won’t let it.”

* * *

Two days later, Siri and I are on Nierport VII, the small moon where Granta had lived with his mother as a child. I’ve made the arrangements, and we stand silently by as Granta’s casket is lowered into the ground next to his mother’s grave.

 

Once the process is done and the attendant droids have finished shoveling the dirt onto the fresh grave, we’re left alone. Siri’s holding Mara in her arms, and I’m staring down at Granta’s gravestone, which bears his name, years of birth and death, and a small holographic image of his face.

 

“Xan,” Siri says softly.

 

I look up at her, and she inclines her head, looking past me. I turn to look, but there’s nothing there.

 

“Do you see him?”

 

“See who?” I ask, frowning.

 

“Reach out with the Force,” Siri tells me. “There’s someone here to see you.”

 

I do as she says, though I can’t imagine what she’s talking about. In the Force I sense a familiar presence, but it’s elusive. I concentrate harder-

 

And the image of Qui-Gon Jinn shimmers into place.

 

I stare. “You’re dead,” I say, dumbly.

 

“There is no death, there is the Force,” my former Master says.

 

I’d always been taught that that particular tenet of the Jedi Code meant that the deceased became one with the Force upon their death. For Qui-Gon’s spirit to be appearing to me now, he must have refrained from doing so.

 

“Still bucking tradition, I see,” I say wryly.

 

Qui-Gon inclines his head, turning to look at the grave. “I’m very sorry for your loss,” he says.

 

I swallow. “I don’t need your pity.”

 

“I offer compassion, not pity, Padawan.”

 

I bristle. “Don’t call me that.”

 

“You will always be my Padawan,” he says. “Nothing that has happened can erase the history we share.”

 

I’m not sure what to say to this. “I assume the two of you know each other?” I ask, glancing between Qui-Gon and Siri.

 

“We’ve met,” Siri says. “Thank you for coming, Master Qui-Gon. Xan is glad to see you, or he will be, once he’s had time to process.”

 

I glare at her.

 

“I’ll take my leave, then,” my former Master says. “I merely wished to offer my condolences. Perhaps, if you are not opposed, I will visit you again some time? We have a great many old ghosts to lay to rest, if you wish it.”

 

I consider for a moment. I never would have imagined I’d someday have Qui-Gon back in my life. I’m tempted to tell him not to come back, but then my thoughts turn to Granta. I remember what he’d said after learning of Siri’s pregnancy, about my failures as a parent. Qui-Gon had raised three Padawans. Perhaps he can help me to avoid making the same mistakes with Mara that I’d made with Granta.

 

“I’m not opposed,” I tell him.

 

Qui-Gon smiles at me, and twinkles out of sight.

 

I take a deep breath. “You could have warned me,” I say to Siri.

 

“I didn’t know he’d show up here,” she said. “I _was_ going to tell you about him. It just didn’t seem like the right time.”

 

“Does this have anything to do with why you have his lightsaber?” I ask, having noticed this detail back on Fadden.

 

She smiles. “In a manner of speaking. He told Obi-Wan to give it to me.”

 

“Hmph,” I grumble, which is my standard reaction whenever she brings up Kenobi.

 

“Don’t be like that,” she says. “He took Mara and me in after our rescue. He didn’t have to do that, you know.”

 

“That was decent of him,” I allow.

 

I resume staring at the grave.

 

“I wish I had some flowers or something to lay down,” Siri says. Nierport VII is a barren world, and there are no flowers to be had at this time of year.

 

“I don’t think Granta liked flowers,” I say, though I must admit that I’m not certain. There’s so much I never knew about him.

 

I wrench my eyes away from the headstone. “We should leave.”

 

“Are you sure?” Siri asks. “If you want to stay longer-“

 

I shake my head. “Granta’s connection to this world is known. The Empire might search for us here.”

 

“Alright,” Siri agrees. We begin walking back towards the spaceport. “Where do we go now?” she asks as we walk.

 

“I was thinking the Outer Rim, or maybe Wild Space. We’ll want to stay away from Imperial worlds, obviously, but we should also avoid planets run by the Hutts. I’m known to them, and I wouldn’t trust the likes of Jabba or Gardulla not to turn us over to the Empire.”

 

Siri nods. “That’s an idea.”

 

“Do you have a better one?”

 

“I think we should go to Alderaan.” 

 

“Alderaan? Siri, that’s in the Core. We can’t risk going there.”

 

“Sure we can,” Siri says. “The Empire knows our ship, so we’ll have to get another one, but I don’t see why we can’t pose as traders or tourists or something once we’re onplanet.”

 

I restrain a sigh. “What’s on Alderaan?” I ask, figuring I might as well hear her out.

 

“Obi-Wan has a contact in the Rebellion there,” she says.

 

I blink. “I thought the Rebellion was just a rumor.”

 

“Obi-Wan says it’s real enough. Think about it, Xan. They could protect us from the Empire, and we could help them in return.”

 

“What about Mara?” I ask.

 

“Well, one of us would have to stay with her at all times, obviously. But we could take turns going on missions.”

 

I shake my head. “It’s too risky to go into the Core. We need to be moving in the opposite direction.”

 

“Tell me honestly. Would you rather run, or fight?”

 

“It’s not that simple,” I say, frustrated. “I don’t want to lose you or Mara. We have to stay safe.”

 

“I don’t want to run, Xan. What kind of life is that, always on the move, always looking over our shoulders?”

 

I open my mouth to tell her again that it’s too dangerous, but then I remember Granta. He’d been killed by the Empire, after all. And although I know Siri would say it’s of the Dark Side, I want revenge.

 

“Alright,” I agree. “Alderaan it is.”

* * *

We sell our ship and use the funds to purchase another, then make our way to Alderaan.

 

“Where do we find this contact of Kenobi’s?” I ask Siri once we’ve landed in the capital city of Aldera.

 

“Well, that’s the problem,” she admits.

 

“You don’t know where to find him?”

 

“Oh, no. I know exactly where he is. It’s getting in to see him that will be difficult.”

 

“And why is that?”

 

“Well…” she hesitates. “The contact is Bail Organa.”

 

“Bail Organa,” I say flatly. “The Viceroy of Alderaan?”

 

“That’s him,” she agrees. “I was thinking if we pose as wealthy potential donors to his re-election campaign, that could get us in the door.”

 

“Too complicated,” I rule. “Our best bet is to catch him alone.”

 

“How are we going to do that?”

 

I grin, a plan already beginning to form in my mind. “Leave it to me.”

* * *

It’s child’s play to sneak in and out of the Aldera Royal Palace. I spend a few days observing, until I know Organa’s schedule. Then I corner him when he’s walking unaccompanied through the gardens one night.

 

Organa, to his credit, looks merely alarmed when I jump down from a tree to land in his path. There’s no trace of fear on his face.

 

“Don’t even think about yelling for your guards, Viceroy,” I warn him.

 

“Who are you?” he asks.

 

“My name is Xanatos Omega. I was once a Jedi, as was my wife. She and I are on the run from the Empire with our infant daughter. We believe Vader and the Emperor want to take our child. We’re willing to pledge ourselves to your Rebellion, in exchange for protection.”

 

Organa regards me warily. “And how do I know you’re telling the truth? I know your name. You once tried to destroy the Jedi.”

 

I restrain a sigh. I’d really been hoping it wouldn’t come to this. “Obi-Wan Kenobi sent me,” I say.

 

Organa appears to relax at this. “You could have said that to begin with.”

 

“Yes,” I say, unenthusiastically. “I suppose I could have.”

 

The Viceroy puts us in touch with a Rebel cell located on the nearby world of Teardrop. When Siri, Mara, and I arrive, we’re welcomed with open arms by the cell, which is made up of a small yet diverse group of beings.

 

“Two Jedi!” exclaims their leader, an Ortolan by the name of Wephna Nuten. “This is more than we could ever have hoped for!”

 

“She’s a Jedi,” I say, gesturing to Siri. “I’m not.”

 

“Well, what are you then?” Nuten asks.

 

That’s a good question, and it’s one I can’t answer succinctly.

 

“He’s sort of a Gray Jedi,” Siri says.

 

“Still a Jedi, though, ain’t he?”

 

“Call me what you want. It makes no difference to me,” I say dismissively.

 

The cell is based out of a small apartment building. There are only four units, but as all the other members of the cell are unmarried, they’ve arranged for Siri, Mara, and I to have a unit to ourselves.

 

“Why did you call me a Gray Jedi?” I ask Siri after we’ve settled in.

 

“Isn’t that what you are? You’ve had chances to fully embrace the Dark Side, and you haven’t taken them. That means a part of you is still holding on to the Light.”  


“I’m sure that’s what you’d like to think,” I grouse.

 

“And you’d like to think you only use the Dark Side, but that’s not true!” Siri argues. “Look, I know you don’t like being called a Jedi. I only said that so the others would understand.”

 

“I left the Jedi.”

 

“So did I,” Siri says. “But leaving the Order doesn’t mean you have to stop being a Jedi. You still follow the ways of the Force.”

 

“I’m not going to start calling myself a Jedi,” I say, shaking my head.

 

“You don’t have to,” Siri says. “But let me put it this way- we’re going to have to start teaching Mara about the Force when she’s a little older. Are you going to teach her about the Dark Side?”

 

“I’m certainly not going to teach her that someone who uses the Dark Side is forever fallen, as the Jedi used to preach.”

 

“No, I don’t think we should teach her that,” Siri agrees. “But surely you agree that the Dark Side is a dangerous temptation for someone who isn’t able to fully control their powers. We’ll have to teach her to use only the Light Side, at least until she’s old enough to make her own choices.”

 

“If she turns out to be a willful child, she won’t like that,” I point out.

 

“Maybe not. But I think it’s the way it should be.”

 

I nod slowly. “I suppose you’re right,” I admit. “I certainly wouldn’t want her to succumb to the Dark Side fully. It will be easier to avoid that if her foundation is in the Light.”

 

“You haven’t succumbed to the Dark Side fully, and you agree we need to raise Mara in the Light. That essentially makes you a Gray Jedi by definition, even if you don’t like the term.”

 

“We shouldn’t go around calling ourselves Jedi. Nothing would draw the Empire’s attention faster.”

 

“Of course we’re not going to tell people we’re Jedi,” Siri agrees. “But we’re going to have to explain these things to Mara, at least. She’ll think you’re a Jedi unless we tell her otherwise. I think calling you a Gray Jedi will be the easiest way to explain it to her.”

 

I try to imagine an older Mara asking questions about philosophy, and realize that Siri is right. The easiest thing will be to tell Mara that I use both the Light and Dark Side. And there’s only one name for Force users who do that.

 

“Fine,” I allow. “I’m a Gray Jedi. Are you happy now?”

 

Siri smiles at me. “I am, yes.”

 

“That’s what’s important, I suppose,” I say, only half-joking.

 

Siri laughs. “You make me happy, Xan. I love you. And I’m so glad you’ve come back to us.”

 

“You did rather force me to choose,” I point out.

 

“Yes,” she agrees. “And you chose your family over the Dark Side. That’s something you should feel good about.”

 

“It was the only choice,” I say. “You make me happy, too. You and Mara both.”

 

Neither of us speak for a moment, and I know we’re both thinking of Granta.

 

“It’s okay to miss him,” Siri says.

 

“I know that,” I reply. “You know… when he was dying, he asked me to do a better job raising Mara than I did with him.”

 

Siri raises her eyebrows. “And what did you say?” she asks.

 

“I told him I would. And I mean to keep to that.”

 

“I’m proud of you, Xan. I think Granta would be, too.”

 

“I hope so.”

 

I’m beginning to realize now that I’d failed Granta, and it makes me ashamed. But all I can do now is keep my promise to him. I will do better raising Mara. My daughter is going to grow up knowing she’s loved by both her parents. I’ll tell her about Granta, too- the brother who loved her so much that some of his last moments were spent making sure she’d be taken care of.

 

Suddenly I’m sure that the Dark Side will no longer hold its allure for me. I don’t intend to keep entirely to the Light. But never again will I put my own desires and ambitions ahead of my family. I love them too much for that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for major character death.


End file.
